#especially after meeting all these new people

[madebycloud]

You're here that's the thing

jinx x reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: Home isn't a four walls and a roof nor the material things that fill in it. It's the warmth in Jinx's eyes whenever she smiles at you, it's the little hands clinging to your shirt as they cross the street. Home is right here. (requested by anon) warnings/themes: FLUFF!! domestic ig, vulnerability (???), slight angsty at the end but happy ending <3 words: 5.7k notes: i'm glad nothing bad happened at the ending and they all live happily ever after :D

You're chowing down on a steaming bowl of seafood at Jericho's. Every bite is a savory delight, justifying your claim that this is Zaun's finest eatery. 

A hooded figure quietly slides into the seat beside you, revealing familiar blue hair when they pull their hood back. Unfazed, you continue eating.

“Bad day?” you mutter, and the blue-haired person helps themselves to a seafood from your bowl without a word.

Life in Zaun is tough, especially after Silco's death, leaving room for chem barons to fight for power. What’s new?

Then, a kid catches your eye. You nudge Jinx. “Who's that?” You nod at the kid in the far corner. 

Jinx, casually munching on your seafood, just shrugs, “Dunno. She's been following me.”

You stop eating and look over at the young girl who's been staring at you both, squinting slightly at her as your gaze shifts back to Jinx. She takes notice of your questioning look and quickly says, “She's not mine,” before taking another bite of seafood.

You roll your eyes at Jinx and then turn to the kid. “You hungry, kiddo?” you call out, gesturing towards the seat beside you.

She hops up onto the stool, though it's a bit high for her and you help her up. You order her a bowl of seafood like you and Jinx were having. She begins eating, her hands stuffing her face.

“So, kid, where's your parents, guardians? Shouldn't you be with them?” But her silence persists, her big, curious eyes locked onto yours.

You and Jinx finish your food and pay Jericho, walking out into the bustling lanes with the young girl in tow. Turning to Jinx, you shrug slightly. “Can she stay with us?” 

Jinx looks at the child and back at you. “Do we even have a room for her?”

Weighing your options, you consider the practical aspect. The answer is likely a ‘no’, but with the environment of Zaun, leaving a child alone on the streets seems far from safe.

“She could use your room,” you suggest, glancing ahead. “I mean, you found her first.”

But Jinx isn't having it. “Nah, you're the one who brought it up, so it's your room.”

You and your parents once owned a house. Thanks to the all and mighty Piltover enforcers who played a role in your parents' disappearance, leaving the house unoccupied. Seeing an opportunity, you claimed the house, not only for yourself but also for your close friend who, without it, would have nowhere to sleep comfortably.

“It's my house.”

“Our house,” she corrects, smirking. “Considering most of the stuff there comes from me, it's not just yours. So that means–”

“By ‘comes from you,’ do you mean the stuff you've stolen?” Your brow furrows as you stop in your tracks, planting your hands on your hips as you stare her down.

Jinx shrugs nonchalantly, her smirk still present. “Finders keepers.”

You sigh, knowing you're not winning this argument, especially not in the middle of the street with people starting to watch. “Fine,” you relent. “She can sleep in my room. I'll take the couch.”

You crouch down to meet the kid's gaze, Jinx standing beside you with her arms crossed. “What's your name, little one?” you ask, but the child remains wordless, those big eyes staring back at you.

You glance at Jinx for help, but she's already thinking of names. “How about Pompom?”

The kid wrinkles her nose at the idea.

“Or maybe Pinky?” Jinx continues, grinning. “Or Sparkles!”

“How about ‘Isha’?” you suggest.

The moment the name leaves your lips, the child's eyes light up.

“Isha it is then.”

Jinx, a bit pouty, muttering under her breath, “She likes ‘Isha’ more, huh? Figures, it came from you.”

“What? It's a nice name,” you raise an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah, whatever.” She turns to Isha, poking the girl lightly on the nose. “Well, Isha, you're stuck with us now.”

Isha's eyes dart between you and Jinx. “More like we're the ones who are stuck with her,” you reply, chuckling, as you playfully ruffle the girl's hair.

—

It's been a full month since Isha started living under the same roof.  You catch Jinx making her hold a gun, teaching her how to shoot.

You scoff, raising an eyebrow at Jinx, “Seriously, Jinx?”

Both Jinx and Isha look up at you, equally undeterred. “What? It's a fake gun,” Jinx defends herself, as if that explains everything.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, already feeling a headache forming. “That's not the point, Jinx. She's just a kid.”

“Pft, ‘just’ a kid.” Jinx rolls her eyes, clearly not understanding your concern. “It's harmless, I promise. Just a little fun.”

“If you're looking for something fun,” you reach into your bag and pull out a coloring book and colored markers. “I found these in the lanes,” you explain, offering the items to Isha. “Much better than play-shooting,” you suggest, giving a pointed look to Jinx before she can protest.

She watches as Isha's face lights up, her attention quickly shifting to the coloring book and markers. “But…” Jinx starts. 

“No buts, Jinx. She's coloring now.”

Jinx lets out a heavy sigh, clearly dissatisfied, but she doesn't protest further. She pouts, leaning back against a wall as she watches Isha happily coloring in.

You join Isha, sitting next to her. Her young hands grip the markers tightly as she fills the pages with colors.

“Making something nice?” you ask, peering over her shoulder to see her work.

Isha nods, her tongue slightly sticking out of her mouth as she carefully adds some color. She glances at you, offering a shy smile before returning to her drawing.

Once Isha is finished with her drawing, she proudly holds it up for you and Jinx to see. The drawing shows three stick figures on a bright blue sky. The two tallest figures, with one that has what looks like braids, are holding hands with the small one in the middle. The three figures smile under the sun.

“Wow, look at that! It's us, all together.”

 Jinx, though reluctant at first, can't help but crack a smile too.

She leans in closer, “Why are my eyes so big?” she snickers, pointing at the comically large eyes drawn on her figure.

You laugh along with Jinx, pointing to a comical squiggly line drawn below your feet in the picture. “And what's that supposed to be, hm?”. Isha giggles, a small blush creeping up her face.

“It's your shadow, duh,” Jinx quips back. 

“In that case, my shadow looks like it ate too much and grew extra limbs.”

“Well, if your shadow's a glutton, mine's got tentacles.” She points to her shadow drawing, which indeed looks like it has several wriggly appendages attached to it.

“You know, I think this is fridge-worthy,” you grin, holding up the drawing. "What do you think, Isha? Do you want to put this on the fridge?"

You turn to Isha, who nods excitedly, clapping her hands together. 

You hand the drawing to Isha, who eagerly takes it to the fridge. You follow her, lifting her up slightly so she can stick the drawing against the fridge door with colorful magnets. She smooths out any wrinkles and carefully adjusts it until she's satisfied.

“Ta-da!” you say, as the drawing now has a permanent place of honor on the refrigerator door.

“Not too shabby, squirt”. She glances at the drawing again, and then her gaze shifts towards Isha. For a moment, a soft expression appears in her eyes—a flicker of something you can't quite make sense of. “Who knows? Maybe one day we'll see this piece in a Piltover's museum, valued at a million golden hexes.” 

“Only a million? I think it's worth a lot more. Maybe we should start an auction right here and now.”

Isha giggles, her small fingers tracing the colors on her drawing again.

“Alright, alright, don't go getting ideas. We don't need some fancy Piltie art collector trying to buy this and hang it in their mansion.”

“Come on, Jinx,” you nudge her. “Don't you think it'd be hilarious to see this hanging in some fancy mansion surrounded by all those fancy Piltover paintings? Maybe we should get Isha to paint more of this and turn this whole place into a gallery.”

—

You meant ‘place’ not your face.

Laying down on the couch, you squint your eyes open as you feel a moist sensation along your face. When your vision clears, you see Isha, giggling, marker in hand, and running away as fast as her legs can carry her. 

“Hey!” You sit up, a chuckle rising in your throat. “You little rascal, come here!”

The sound of a door opening makes you pause. Turning, you see Jinx standing there, half-asleep and clearly irritated.

“What the hell is going on here?” she grumbles, rubbing her eyes.

A snicker escapes Isha's lips.

“Looks like you've got a new makeup look, Jinx.”

“What?” she asks, her voice still groggy from sleep.

Silence.

Jinx looks at your face. Isha's hand. Finally placing her own hand on her face. Wet mark on her face. Smear of color on her hand.

“Isha.”

You and Jinx exchange a glance. Grins matching hers. Without hesitation, you both rush after Isha, who breaks into a run.

Just as she turns a corner, you quickly change direction and outstretch your hands, successfully scooping her up into your arms and spinning her around, her hands grasping at your shirt and arms around your neck as she continues to giggle.

While still holding Isha, you see Jinx's eyes as her hand darts towards a nearby marker and begins to draw on Isha's face. 

“Hold still, you little gremlin!” Jinx says, struggling to keep her marker strokes even while Isha wiggles and giggles. She manages to add a few squiggles and dots before Isha's laughter becomes uncontrollable, disrupting any further attempts at ‘decorating’.

“Come on, lemme finish it.” A few more ink-blots make their way onto the girl's face before she's set down. “Ta-da!” Jinx declares, wiping her hands on her pants. 

Isha, still giggling, runs to the nearest mirror, who is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet as she takes in her reflection. She turns her head from side to side, admiring her new ‘makeover’ from Jinx.

Feeling a tingle in your chest, you steal a glance at Jinx, watching her smile at Isha. 

Idiot, you silently scold yourself.

But your lips still curve into a small smile. 

Damn it, you silently curse to yourself, hoping Jinx didn't notice you staring at her with that expression written all over your face.

But Isha doesn't miss that. She looks between you and Jinx, the gears in her young mind turning, and a sly grin slowly spreads across her face.

Oh. She knows something that you'd prefer to keep hidden.

—

Isha's been down with a cold.

Today, you made her a bowl of porridge. Jinx volunteered to help.

You stand at the stove, stirring the simmering porridge, with Jinx by your side, carefully cutting up some fresh fruit to mix into the meal. You carefully ladle the porridge into a bowl, checking to make sure it's just the right temperature for Isha's sore throat.

You glance down at the bowl, satisfied with the consistency and temperature, before moving it onto a tray along with a spoon, a glass of water, and the bowl of fruit.

You head towards Isha's room, with Jinx following close behind. You can hear the sound of soft coughing coming from inside, along with the rustle of blankets.

Pushing open the door gently, you enter the room to find Isha sitting up in her bed, her blankets piled around her. Her face is slightly flushed from the fever, and she looks a bit tired, but her eyes light up when she sees the tray in your hands.

“Here's your porridge,” you say softly, setting it down on the bedside table. 

Jinx moves to the other side of the bed, plopping down next to Isha and gently placing a cool hand against her forehead. “You're still a bit warm.”

Isha nods weakly, trying to suppress a cough.

“But that porridge should help,” you add, settling on the edge of the bed and offering the bowl to Isha. “Slow sips, okay? Don't want you getting a tummy ache on top of everything else.”

Isha accepts the bowl and sips the porridge carefully. 

“There you go,” you smile, watching as Isha continues eating. Jinx grabs the glass of water, holding it up to Isha's lips once she's taken a few spoonfuls.

Once she's done, Jinx continues to check on her, fluffing her pillows, adjusting the blankets, and giving her the occasional pat on the head.

—

It's late evening. 

Jinx sits cross-legged on the floor, her back resting against the footboard of the bed where Isha is lying down. The little girl's eyes are focused on Jinx, her hands covering her face partially as if trying to stay up a bit longer.

Jinx tells a story she learned from Vander, one that he used to tell her when she was a child. A story about miners getting stuck in a mine and rescued by a mysterious, wisp-like woman that guided them to safety.

When Jinx finishes the story, she glances at Isha, expecting her to be asleep by now. Instead, she lies there and watches Jinx.

Peeking through the door, you expect to find Isha asleep, but she is still wide awake. Jinx looks like she's wracking her brain to think of more stories, still determined to get the little girl to sleep.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you settle down on the floor next to Jinx. “She's not tired yet, huh?” you whisper to Jinx. 

“No, not yet,” she replies. “I've run out of stories to tell and she doesn't seem even a bit sleepy.”

“She's just like you.”

“Hush,” she says, trying to suppress a smile. “I'm not the one keeping her awake right now.” She turns back to Isha, who is still awake and watching both of you.

“Well, neither of us are helping,” you point out, looking at the little girl who's staring at you both. “Isha, it's time for bed. You need to close your eyes and sleep.”

Isha pouts, clearly not wanting to go to sleep just yet. She looks at Jinx and then at you, her eyes pleading for another story. 

“Come on, kid,” Jinx says. “It's well past your bedtime. No more stories.”

Isha’s pout deepens, her bottom lip jutting out stubbornly.

You stand up from the floor, walking over to a nearby bookshelf where you keep various children's books and comics. After a quick rummage, you find a colorful comic book that should interest Isha.

You return to the bed, carrying the comic book, and sit down next to Jinx again. Isha leans forward, her eyes immediately drawn to the book in your hands.

“Found one,” you say, holding up the comic book for the little girl to see. Her eyes light up when she recognizes the vibrant cover. 

Flipping open the comic book to the first page, you begin reading aloud about a group of animals in a forest. Isha listens intently, snuggled up in bed, her eyes darting between the images and your face as you read the story.

“Every day, these animals would wake up early,” you read, pointing to the drawing of the animals waking up and stretching. “Some would eat breakfast, some went to play, and some went to search for food.”

“One particularly lazy squirrel woke up late.” You turn over the page to reveal a picture of a sleepy little squirrel yawning and rubbing his eyes as the other animals were already out of their nests.

“By the time he woke up, all the nuts were already gone.” You flip over the page again to reveal an image of the squirrel, now wide awake, frantically searching for something to eat but finding nothing but empty trees and bushes.

“The squirrel was shocked and saddened that the nuts had run. But then,” you change your tone dramatically, “one of the rabbits heard the squirrel's cries and decided to help him!”

You turn the page again. This time, the picture shows the rabbit coming up to the squirrel, a nut in his paw. “The rabbit, seeing the squirrel's plight, decided to share his own breakfast with him.”

“The squirrel was delighted and grateful,” you read, and you turn the page to show an image of the squirrel happily sharing the nut with the rabbit. “The two of them ate and ate together, until their tummies were full and they fell asleep in a heap on the forest floor!”

You glance up from the book and see that Isha has finally fallen asleep. Her small head is now lying on her pillow and a tiny smile graces her lips, as if she were dreaming about the animals from the comic book.

You close the comic book and set it down, but then there's a weight on your shoulder.

Looking to the side, you see Jinx, who has fallen asleep. Her head rests on your shoulder. Her hair tickles your neck. Her eyes closed.Her mouth slightly open, softly snoring.

Still as a statue. 

You find yourself staring at the soft curtain of blue hair, your fingers itching to reach out and push it aside. 

But you don't. You can't. You don't want to wake her up. Don't move.

It would be a small action, but you know that it might wake her up, and the last thing you want is to deal with a grumpy face and her snarky comment. 

But your hand moves as if it has a mind of its own. Inch by inch, your fingers close in until they gently make contact with her hair, brushing it back over her ear. 

Jinx lets out a soft sigh, her head leaning into your hand as if aching for your touch.

Her face, now with her bangs brushed aside, shows her features—so fine, so distinctly her.

Your eyes trace her face. You want to hold her in a way that you'll remember forever. You want to know her in every way possible, to learn every inch of her, to understand every thought and feeling she's ever had.

Her arms are the only chains you'd gladly wear. Her eyes in which you'd forever be lost. Her smile is the one you can never say no to. Her voice is the song that you could listen to for hours.

You wonder if she would lean into your touch, if she would arch her head into your palm. Would she let you caress her face, your fingers tracing the slope of her jaw and the curve of her cheek? Or would she pull back, pushing you away?

But as quickly as it began, it ended.

You pull your hand away. Your fingers clenching into a fist and returning to your lap. The memory of her soft hair against your skin remains, burning at the edges of your thoughts.

Then Jinx slowly stirs from her sleep. She lifts her head from your shoulder, her heavy-lidded eyes meeting yours, then your mouth, then back to your eyes again.

You saw her throat move. Are you hallucinating? Is it just your imagination? You can't tell for sure. You wonder if your mind is playing tricks on you. Your thoughts are fogged by the way she's looking at you.

Her eyes linger on your face, tracing every contour, every feature.

Your heart is in your throat. You can hear it pulsing in your ears. You can feel your palms getting sweaty. You try to hold her gaze, but your own eyes are drawn to her lips, soft and slightly parted.

Finally, Jinx breaks the silence. “You're staring,” she murmurs.

You blink, her words snapping you out of your trance. “I–” you start to respond, then realize how stupid and obvious it sounded. “Just making sure you didn't drool on me.”

She chuckles, her hand pushing your face away from hers. 

“Hey!” you say, putting a palm to your face.

You watch as Jinx stands up, heading towards the door, opening it slightly, and pausing to look back at you. 

“Good night,” she says, eyes lingering on yours for a moment.

“Night, Jinx,” you reply, one hand still resting on your face.

You catch a glimpse of a small smile forming on her lips as she disappears through the door, leaving you sitting there with a palm still on your cheek.

You hear a soft, barely suppressed giggle coming from Isha's bed. Confused, you turn to look at her, only to find her looking at you with a wide grin. 

“Isha,” you say, surprised, “I thought you were asleep!”

—

“You could have warned me,” Sevika grumbles. Isha continues to focus on coloring her hat.

“Fat chance,” Jinx responds, turning to face Sevika. “About what?”

Sevika glares at her, obviously displeased. “Your stunt at the checkpoint.”

“No idea what you're babbling about.”

“That wasn't you?” she scoffs. 

Jinx pauses, a flicker of realization crossing her face. She glances at Isha with a knowing look, noticing the smirk on the child's face.

The conversation with Sevika continues, with Jinx growing more and more restless as it does. Once the discussion is over, Jinx rises from her spot. “I gotta go bother someone,” she says, before walking out.

You notice the look on Isha's face. Disappointment.

“Let's go, Isha,” you say, already grabbing a bat and some small balls. You don’t wait for a response, signaling for her to follow as you head to the door.

—

It's late, the sun having set and the moon now high in the sky. You and Isha had spent the previous hours playing, but Jinx still hasn't returned. Concerned, the two of you look for her.

Isha rides on your shoulder, her small hands gripping your hair. She looks at the surroundings for any sign of Jinx. 

After some time walking and climbing, you end up on a rooftop. You both climb carefully, making sure not to fall.

Finally, when perched on the edge, you spot Jinx. She's sitting with her knees against her chest, looking out at Piltover.

You gently place Isha down on the rooftop, giving her a subtle nudge, gesturing towards Jinx. Isha catches your cue, nodding quietly and slowly approaches Jinx.

Isha carefully settled herself down beside her. Her legs dangling off the ledge of the rooftop.

You take a seat on the other side of Isha, settling down with a soft rustle of fabric. 

Jinx continues to stare out at the city, her chin resting on her folded arms. “You guys found me, huh?”

Isha shifts her position, moving closer. You notice that she's looking up at Jinx, her small head resting against her arm.

Jinx glances at the child. She reaches over to ruffle Isha's hair affectionately.

“Couldn't stay away.”

“Yeah,” she mutters, “I guess you two are pretty stubborn.”

You reposition yourself, shifting your body so that you can lean back and rest a hand on the cold, gritty rooftop.

Jinx moves herself into a more relaxed position, leaning back and placing her hand on the rooftop next to yours. With her other hand, she pats at Isha, gesturing for the child to lay down.

Isha obliges, her small body now sprawled out across Jinx's lap. She fidgets a bit, clearly beginning to tire.

Watching over the city below while the moon hangs low in the night sky, a familiar touch breaks the silence, fingertips seeking yours.

There's a gentle pressure, a gentle caress, that causes your hand to twitch involuntarily, yet you don't pull away.

Her hand rests on top of yours , claiming its place as if it were always meant to be there. Jinx's fingers gently trace patterns across the back of your hand, almost like a secret language only she understands. 

“Your hands are cold,” she continues tracing lazy circles with the pads of her fingers.

You hadn't even realized how cold your hand had felt until she pointed it out, and now it seems to be burning under her touch.

“Ever thought about wearing gloves?” 

“Gloves?” you repeat, finding your own voice now. 

“Hm, I guess not,” she responds, almost to herself. 

Her fingers suddenly stop their tracing, and for a brief moment, you feel disappointed. But she quickly resumes, her thumb now brushing over your wrist, the pulse point.

Jinx glances up at you, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Your pulse is racing. Am I making you nervous?”

“No,” you mutter, though the speed of your pulse likely betrays your words.

“Uh huh,” she says. “You're a terrible liar.” She continues to hold your wrist, thumb now drumming a slow, steady rhythm against your pulse point.

“Relax,” she murmurs, her thumb gently rubbing against your pulse. “I don't bite... much.”

You try to calm your racing heartbeat, but her touch is making it difficult. 

“I'm relaxed.”

Isha shifts in Jinx's lap, her body stirring slightly. The sudden movement snaps you out of your trance, both you and Jinx turning your attention towards the girl. 

Jinx lifts her free hand and pats Isha’s head reassuringly. Her touch is soft and careful, not wanting to disturb the sleeping girl.

With Isha settled, Jinx turns her attention back to you. She still hasn't let go of your wrist, her fingers now massaging little circles into your skin. “You're awfully tense for someone who's ‘relaxed’.”

She studies you for a moment, her eyes roaming your face, then she suddenly releases your hand. The sudden absence of her touch feels like a loss.

Jinx sits back, creating a bit of space between the two of you. 

“What's on your mind?”

“Just thinking.”

You frown, frustrated by her vague response. “About what?”

“About you,” she answers.

Her reply catches you off guard. You feel your cheeks warm, and you mentally scold yourself. Why is she having this effect on you?

“Me?” you ask, trying to remain calm.

Jinx glances down at the sleeping Isha, a slight smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, and Isha,” she mutters, her hand absently playing with the child's hair.

Her eyes then dart back to you, studying you intently. “Mostly you, though,” she clarifies.

“Uh, me?” you repeat, mentally cursing yourself for sounding like a parrot.

Jinx hums, still absently playing with Isha’s hair. 

"What... what about us?"

Jinx doesn't respond right away. Her gaze flicks between you and the sleeping child, as if contemplating something.

“I've got a habit of bringing trouble wherever I go.”

She turns to you, her gaze meeting yours. There's something almost pleading in her eyes, as if she's silently begging you to understand.

“I just-” she begins. “I don't want anything bad to happen to either of you... because of me.”

Her eyes search yours for a moment before she looks down at Isha. “I'm not sure what I'd do if something happened to you… either of you.”

“I care too much,” she blurts out, looking back up at you. “And honestly, it scares me.” There’s a pause as her eyes lock onto yours. You can see her shoulders tense, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t want to mess everything up. Everyone I’ve ever cared about has gotten hurt by me, or because of me.”

You ache to pull her into your arms, to soothe the worries that are weighing heavily on her shoulders. It takes every ounce of restraint you have not to. “No,” you murmur softly, shaking your head. “No, I'm not going anywhere. Neither is Isha.”

“You don't know what could happen.”

“Yes, I do,” you murmur. “I know there's a chance we might end up hurt. Or worse.” You take a deep breath, holding her gaze steady with yours. “But that's a risk I'm willing to take,” you continue. “Because being with you, right now, is worth it.”

She opens her mouth as if to protest, but you cut her off with a soft shake of your head. “No. No more talking. You've said what you need to say. Now let me say what I need to say.”

Eyes never leaving hers, you reach out slowly, giving her enough time to pull away if she wanted to. But she doesn't, and your fingers find their way to her cheek, gently cupping her face.

“I care about you too,” you murmur, your thumb tracing a gentle path over her cheekbone. “I care about the person you are, not just the person you think you are. I see the good in you, the good that you struggle to see in yourself.”

Her lips part, as if to utter another protest, but you gently press a finger to her mouth to silence her. “Let me speak. I'm not done yet.”

“Jinx I know you're afraid,” you continue, your eyes searching hers. “You're terrified of the possibility of me or Isha getting hurt. I understand. But you need to realize,” you pause, your fingers moving from her mouth to her chin, tilting it up gently so that she's looking you fully in the eye.

“You're not a curse,” you say. “You're not a jinx. Bad things happen, but that doesn't mean it's your fault. It’s not your fault—” 

“I know.” She trembles under your touch. Her eyes glisten.

“No, listen to me. It’s not your fault.”

“I know.” Despite her best efforts, the dam is beginning to break. 

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat. A single tear manages to escape, trickling down her cheek and into your palm. “You were just a child.”

“But I should have known. I should have—They're gone because of me. It's my fault.”

“No, no, no,” you cut her off. “It's not your fault. You were just a child. You were doing what you thought was the best to help them, to protect them.” You gently wipe the tear away with your thumb, your heart aching for her. You can see the battle she's fighting within herself, and it kills you that you can't do more. 

“You are not defined by your past, by your mistakes,” you continue, your hand still on her cheek, feeling the slight tremble as she struggles to hold back her tears. “You are so much more than that.”

“You are loved,” you murmur, your fingers gently tracing her jawline, before moving slowly upwards to her temple. “By me, by Isha. And by many more people than you realize.”

For perhaps the first time, Jinx lets herself break. She leans into your touch, her cheek pressing harder against your palm. Her eyes never leave yours, seeking comfort, reassurance. She grips your wrists weakly, her hands trembling. “It's okay, I’m right here.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” you murmur, your thumb tracing small, soothing circles on her cheek. “No matter what happens, you hear me? I'm here to stay. We're here to stay. You're stuck with us.”

Slowly, the tears begin to subside. Her breathing steadies. Her body calming down.

You let your fingers slowly shift from her tear stained cheeks to her hair, gently playing with the strands. “I'll do everything in my power to keep both of you safe,” you continue, your hands moving down to her shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze.

“I'm not some damsel in distress,” she mutters. 

You laugh, leaning back on your hands. “I know you're not,” you assure her. “You'd probably kick my ass if I tried to treat you like one. But even the toughest people need someone to have their backs, right?”

Jinx huffs, though you can see the edges of a smile on her face. “That's a cheesy line,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. 

“Maybe,” you admit. “But it's still true. You don't have to face everything alone,” you continue, hoping to drive the point home.

“Yeah, yeah,” she mutters, her hand resuming its gentle stroking of Isha’s hair. “You're annoyingly stubborn, you know that?”

“And yet?”

Jinx snorts. “And yet somehow... I tolerate you.”

Sensing the change in atmosphere, Isha mumbles incoherently, shifting slightly.

“Looks like someone's stirring,” Jinx coos.

With one final pat on Jinx's shoulder, you withdraw your hand, silently communicating that the moment is over, for now.

Her shoulders tense slightly at the loss of your touch, disappointment or perhaps longing in her eyes. But she quickly composes herself.

The little girl slowly opens her eyes, blinking sleepily and looking around disoriented. She rubs one eye with a fist, then glances up as if just realizing that she's in Jinx's lap.

Isha grins brightly when she sees Jinx, her tired eyes lighting up. She wriggles a bit, stretching her limbs and looking surprisingly cheerful despite being woken up.

“I think we should head back. It's getting late.”

Jinx nods, carefully shifting Isha in her arms as she stands up. The child wraps her arms around Jinx's neck, clinging to her like a monkey.

“Alright, kid, time to head home,” Jinx tells Isha, bouncing her up a bit in her arms. The girl giggles and buries her head into the crook of Jinx's neck.

Seeing Jinx like this with Isha is something else. She looks so... soft.

“Ready to go?” Jinx asks, looking at you. Isha wriggles, eager to get going.

You nod, gesturing for them to lead the way. Isha stretches out a hand towards you, wanting to hold onto you too.

“Looks like you've got a fan.”

“Nah, she just likes me that much.”

“That so?” Jinx huffs. “Or is she just using you to get to me?”

“You know she'd choose my company over yours any day,” you say, sticking your tongue out at Jinx.

“Oh, so that's how it is, huh?” She pokes Isha gently in the stomach, causing another giggle from the child. “Traitor,” she mutters under her breath before addressing you again. “I'm wounded, really.”

“You'll survive,” you assure her. “Somehow.”

The warmth of Isha’s grasp on your hand. The giggle that escapes her every time Jinx spins her around. The way Jinx's eyes soften when she looks at the child.

This, you realize, is what home could feel like.

notes: im so excited for act 4 on saturday!

[sunfairiess]

𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 || 𝐣𝐣 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

pairing: jj maybank x fem!routledge!reader

tropes: 3rd person narration | sarah cameron’s pov | childhood best friends to lovers | brother’s best friend | best friend’s sister | fluff | soft boy jj

synopsis: sarah cameron meets her boyfriend’s sister for the first time, and understands what being soulmates means.

warnings: cursing, slightly mention of violence

wc: 2.9k

it’s my first time writing a character x reader (and actually writing a ff in years lmao) so i really hope this turned out well! also, i apologize for any typos or grammar errors but english is not my first language <3

song rec: about you - the 1975 ♡

“c’mon guys, time to go back. it’s starting to freeze out here.” pope said, placing his fishing rod by his side before getting up and walking towards the helm of the boat, kiara following him to keep him some company. he was right: the temperature had started to drop, and honestly he didn’t even know why the pogues decided to go fishing at the end of november.

they were all there, except for the pogue princess as they liked to call her. she was john b’s younger sister, just by one year; and even though she was definitely a pogue down to her core, she actually almost looked like a kook: she was always composed, never drank too much, never even touched a cigarette or a joint, and she worked her ass off every afternoon at the country club to help john b with the bills and to afford a few of the things she liked.

she was smart, kind, the type of girl to lighten up a room with the sound of her laughter. she was also one of the reasons why the ‘no pogue-on-pogue macking‘ rule was made: everyone kind of had a thing for her, and jj maybank was the first in line.

“i seriously regret coming, i think i’m going into hypothermia.” jj said, shuddering a little bit. yes, it was cold, but it wasn’t that cold. jj just liked to be dramatic.

“gosh, you’re such a pussy.” john b laughed, smacking his best friend behind the head. they’ve know each other for more than ten years now. they weren’t friends anymore, they were brothers. they loved and cared for each other very deeply, even if they were acting like jerks most of the time.

as pope started the engine of the hms pogue, ready to go back to the château, john b took his sweatshirt off to pass it to sarah, his new girlfriend. she was a kook, but she was different. she didn’t care about how dissimilar their lives were, she loved spending time with the pogues because they were real. they were amazing friends, they were funny and smart, and the kind of people you could have a serious conversation with. they weren’t superficial like the kooks, and she loved them for this.

she felt a little tap on her leg, catching with her vision her boyfriend’s sweater. she gave john b a smile and slid the blue piece of clothing on. “so, i’m meeting your sister for the first time today, uh. big step.” sarah joked, slightly pushing his arm.

since the first moment they started dating, john b had always talked about how he wanted her to meet his sister. she was the most important person in his life, especially after his dad went missing at sea during a storm. he actually wanted sarah to meet her right away, but she asked him to wait a couple of months, just to see if they were solid about this relationship. “yup, and trust me you’re gonna love her. she’s like a little ball of sunshine, she wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” he said, smiling at the thought how of sweet his sister was with everyone.

“he’s right. i don’t think i’ve even ever seen her mad.” jj stated, shifting his seat from john b’s right to sarah’s left.

“she seems really nice, but i’m not worried about me liking her, because, by what you guys always say about her, i already do. i’m just worried she won’t like me, you know because of the whole pogue-kook thing.”

everyone bursted out laughing at sarah’s words, her face more confused than ever. “what? what did I say?” kiara left pope at the helm of the boat, and went to sit in front of her, crossing her legs together. “you don’t need to worry about that, she doesn’t give a shit about the rivalry. trust me, she looks like she walked out of a cruise brochure. the only thing she wants is to see her brother with someone who makes him happy, which you do, so she’s totally gonna be fine with it.” sarah smiled at her words, feeling a bit more relieved now.

even though pope wasn’t seating next to them, he could still perfectly hear their conversation and see sarah’s tensed body. that’s why he decided to lighten up a bit the discussion. “you know, one time she made jj dress up as a reindeer.” he said getting out a chuckle at the memory of jj dressed as one of santa claus’s reindeers.

kiara followed him with a loud laughter “oh my god it’s true, i almost forgot it.”

sarah gave them an amazed look. she was enjoying this too much to not say anything. “okay, this is actually the funniest thing i’ve ever heard. did you had a red nose like little rudolph, too?” she said with a smirk, turning her head towards jj’s.

“oh shut up, all of you. i only did it because she asked. besides, she looked so happy when i changed into that costume. i would honestly do it again.” jj let out an involontary smile at the thought of y/n. it was like this all the time: wether he wanted it or not, the only thought of y/n made him feel like he was the happiest man on earth, even if he wasn’t. she just had that effect on him.

“god, it’s sickening how whipped you are for my sister.” john b said, mimicking a gag reflex.

jj rolled his eyes at his words. sarah switching her gaze between the two boys sitting one to her left, and the other to her right. she then stopped to look at jj. “wait- you like y/n?”

“like? hell, he loves that girl. he’s been in love with her since he was six. the random hook ups he has? that’s all for show. he only does it to not draw suspicion, since the only girl he’d like to fuck— and sorry john b— is y/n.” pope said, fully exposing his friend’s feelings.

not that jj cared anyway. everyone knew how he felt about her, he didn’t even try to deny it anymore.

“and you’re completely fine with it?“ sarah asked john b, knowing how protective he was when it came to his sister.

“i wasn’t always. first time he told me he loved her? i punched him. not my finest moment but i was kinda mad.” john b replied, slightly chuckling, reminiscing his right fist hitting jj’s jawbone. “i mean, the day before he tells me he sees her as a little sister and then that he wants to sleep with her? hell nah, i wasn’t having that.”

“and what changed your mind?”

“because it’s jj. i know my best friend, and i know how much he cares for her. i knew he was never going to hurt her, i’m actually pretty sure he would die for her.”

sarah nodded along. the look on jj’s face confirming that what john b had just said was a hundred percent true. in that moment a thought crossed her mind, making her think about how what jj and y/n must’ve been something truly special.

“bubba, we’re home.” john b shouted, as he opened the château’s door. the house was silent, except for a light melody coming from the bathroom and the sound of the shower running. “shower! be right there!” sarah heard y/n shout back, as every one of the pogues sat on the couch: her ending up between her boyfriend and kiara, next to who was seated pope; and a bit far away from them jj. she figured he left the space empty for y/n.

about ten minutes later, while the pogues were having a conversation about an upcoming party at the boneyard, a sixteen year old girl came out of the bathroom, wearing a pink sweater and long white sweatpants. white socks at her feet and long wet hair cascading down her back. she walked up to them, bending slightly to place a kiss on her brother’s cheek, and proceeding to do the same with all the others.

she then retraced her steps and stopped in front of sarah. “so you’re the reason why my brother stopped being a cranky old lady.” she smiled, offering her her right hand. “i’m y/n, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“sarah. it’s a pleasure to meet you too, john b’s always talking about you.” sarah replied, shaking her hand. y/n let out a small laugh, as she walked towards the end of the couch were jj was seated.

she plopped down next to him, tucking her legs under her bottom and leaning into him. he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer and gently leaving a kiss to the side of her head. “he’s always talking about you too. i swear the other night he woke me up around 3am just to tell me how amazing your date was. which, don’t get me wrong, i was very happy to hear about.”

“you literally throw a pillow in my face.” john b said.

“duh, because you woke me at 3 fucking a.m. i love you bird, but for gods sakes let a girl sleep.” she replied, making everyone laugh at her comment.

the conversation resumed pretty quickly, this time through with jj paying way less attention to it, more focused on the girl next to him.

the entire evening, between laughters and bottles of beers, sarah observed how jj and y/n were always caught up in their whole world. jj’s hands being constantly on her body, wether it was a arm around her shoulders or his hand on her leg. they were glued to each other, sometimes even whispering between them words only they could catch.

for the second time that day, sarah thought about how jj and y/n’s bond was special, going beyond simple friendship.

it was almost two a.m. when kie and pope left, both returning to their respective houses to avoid their parents storming out on them. sarah instead was going to spend the night there, so since jj and john b were on the front porch smoking a joint, obviously a jj’s idea, she and y/n were the only two people moving around the living room, cleaning up the mess of empty beer bottles and pizza boxes.

the whole night she noticed how jj and y/n acted around each other, so since they were now alone, she just felt like she had to ask. “so what’s the deal between you and jj?”

“there’s no deal, we’re friends.” y/n said calmly.

“bullshit, i noticed the way you look at him and how he looks at you. that’s the look of love, sweetie.” sarah decided not to mention how jj actually felt about her. it wasn’t her place to say tell the truth.

“nah, jj would never go for someone like me. he only sees me as a little sister, besides i’m not even his type.” she replied, giving her a kind smile, even though she felt like a lump was stuck right down her throat. y/n always knew she wasn’t the kind of girl jj would want, the were total polar opposites, and truthfully she never even considered herself that much beautiful to have a chance with him.

“since when jj has a type? doesn’t he hits on every breathing human being?” sarah knew this probably wasn’t the right thing to say, but sometimes people needed a little push to blurt out their feelings. to her surprise though, y/n laughed, most likely because she knew how their friend had a habit of flirting with almost every girl he met. it didn’t matter if they were pogues or tourons, or hell even kooks sometimes. a pretty girl is a pretty girl, doesn’t matter where she comes from.

“kinda, but he always hooks up with victoria-secrets-models type of girls, if you get what i mean. and apart from that, we want different things. he doesn’t do relationships and i don’t do random hook ups. not to mention how the possibility of me and jj being together would probably give an aneurysm to my brother.”

“eh, i wouldn’t be so sure about that, ya know. either way though, you like him, don’t you?“ sarah said, remembering the conversation she and the other guys had on the boat.

busted. y/n stayed silent, sailing her lips in a thin, straight line. she then closed her eyes and took a deep breath, getting ready to spill everything out. she figured it was time to tell the truth anyway, since sarah clearly figured everything out.

“i met jj when i was four, we were in kindergarten and some older boys were picking on me. i was smaller and basically on the edge of tears, until i saw this blonde boy running towards me and putting himself between us. even if he was younger than them he still took my defense. after that he walked me home and told me he was a friend of john b’s. since that day, i don’t think i’ve ever liked someone that wasn’t him.“

she took a small pause, just to catch her breath. but she was so caught up in narrating the whole story, that she didn’t notice john b and jj leaning against the doorframe.

jj’s eyes almost bursting out of his face at her words, not expecting to hear her confession. john b, very aware of how his best friend was going to lose his shit any minute now, he places his finger against his mouth, mimicking him to shut up.

“as we grew older the roles kinda reversed and i started to look out for him: when he would come here bruised because of his father i would hug him and clean him up; even if younger than him i helped him study, you know just avoiding he would fail some subjects. at night, dad used to let him sleep next to me or john b because he didn’t want to be alone, thing that of course dad prohibited when i turned twelve. that didn’t stop him though: he would sneak out as soon as john b would fall asleep and come under the covers with me.”

she let out a laugh. “would sir. freud love this? probably yes, but it doesn’t matter. he deserves someone that cares for him, everyone does. and it’s not pity or mercy, i genuinely want to be there for him, because he deserves the best. yet, because of his father he’s convinced he’s worthless, but he’s not. gosh, he’s so funny and smart, which i know sounds weird but he is. he would die for his friends and cares so much for us. and i’m sure he could make it out of obx if only he wanted to. and he’s always so supportive and gen-“

she could’ve kept going on, but she suddenly noticed the two boys staring right up at her. jj’s eyes were watery, like he was going to cry any second now. he didn’t cry much, only when really fucked up things happened in his life, but for the first time he felt like crying not because he was sad and tired but because he was happy. because finally he could’ve had something great going on in his life. he could’ve had her.

without saying anything he launched himself into y/n’s arms, letting her stumble back due to the rushed impact between their bodies. he hold her tight, his arms around her waist and hers around his neck. his face placed in the space between her shoulder and her neck, breathing in the smell of the coconut soap she always used. he didn’t care about sarah and john b still being in the room, he wouldn’t even care if a freaking zebra walked in the house. she was the only thing that mattered. she was his whole universe.

“you shouldn’t eavesdrop, maybank.” she said with a smirk, putting a bit of distance between their bodies so she could look at him in the face, but still managing to play with the of hair at the nape of his neck.

“did you actually mean it? like for real?”

“every word, jay. you know me, i would never lie to you.”

jj maybank was impulsive. half of the time he never thought before acting, which pretty much resulted in him dealing with the aftermath of his stupid decisions. that’s why he didn’t think twice in grabbing y/n’s face with his hands, pressing his lips against hers.

at first he felt her stiffening, probably surprised by his gesture, and for a moment he really thought he had just screwed everything up. but then her hands went to his shirt, yanking him even closer if possible, and he sensed her relaxing, her lips moving against his.

after what seemed like hours, he pulled back, only because they both needed air. if it was up to him, he would’ve spent hours kissing her without getting a break.

“i’ve been loving you for a long time, princess.” she smiled, her cheeks almost hurting because of all the happiness she was feeling.

“well, you’re very lucky then, because i’ve been loving you for a long time too.”

“i can’t watch this, i think i’m gonna throw up.”

sarah nudged her elbow into her boyfriend stomach, giving him a look that said ‘shut the fuck up or i’m killing you’. john b raised his hands in the air, admitting defeat.

and, as they watched jj starting to kiss y/n again, sarah thought of how her own relationship was truly amazing. but in her opinion? what y/n and jj had was the true definition of soulmates.

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

See, hear and speak no evil - Carlos Sainz x reader

You usually loved race weekends. Any chance for you to watch your boyfriend do his thing was appreciated. But not Miami. Your poor European sleep cycle was not used to this. Toto was wrong about no one watching the races in your time zone. Carlos would make fun of you for it, especially as he was living it. He teased you relentlessly for sleeping through half of the Chinese GP. Oh, the irony of you getting into the sport because your partner was an F1 driver and not the opposite. Even worse, he refused to explain the "lore" as you called it. So you Googled frantically and added the Netflix documentary to your queue. Unexplainable, you found yourself watching Tiktok edits instead. And you were gonna give it to these people with Capcut and a dream. They managed to capture Carlos' sex appeal. You had new obsessions with every clip on your fyp. His hair, his thighs, and of course, him going ballistic on the radio. You had heard your boyfriend being a little grumpy at quali or race positions before. Yapping about strategies or other drivers. Even Charles wasn't immune to a snarky comment. But then you were using your efforts to calm him or to let him talk it out. Now, when it was a loop of him pissed on air, you realized that maybe you liked angry, vocal Carlos a little more than you guessed. The memes about your boyfriend being written by Lana del Rey were sometimes true. He had a poised reputation to uphold. Even when it was just the two of you, he was either stoic or bubbly and funny. If he was sad, he'd be sulky or melancholic. Never angry or possessive. Never letting you see him lose his cool. It wasn't like he didn't trust you enough to let you in. It was more due to the fact that you were precious and fragile to him, breakable. But that was gonna change soon. With special courtesy of his radios during his battles with Oscar.

Carlos liked to have you in your "lovers nest" before Imola. Called you his lucky charm, his amuleto. Truth be told, it was a little early. Cohabitation was usually reserved for "seasoned couples". Carlos and you joked that you weren't living together, you were occasional roommates with benefits. The new arrangement meant that every couple of weeks, between triple headers, you would be in Spain. You knew a frequent flier discount hated to see you coming. Luckily, you had somewhat managed to make your job more remote, negotiating different hours and taking on a freelancing type of everyday tasks.

But like any person in love, you were most productive when alone. Thanks to the copious amounts of coffee you needed to watch the Miami GP, you had pulled 2 all nighters, basically flying through your professional to-do list. As soon as your weekly meeting was over, you started going through the most boring and easy parts of what you do. As soon as your lunch break rolled around, you were napping, hoping no one from the office decided to check up on you.

You're saving up the completed tasks as leverage, waiting for the right moment. And it arrives with the sound of a door unlocking and Carlos' familiar voice echoing through the apartment. You call him in the office space and let him know that you're almost finished. Sending out your tasks to your supervisor, you utilise their checking time and turn it into boyfriend time. Within a few minutes, you're in bed with Carlos, both in lounge wear that left little to the imagination. It was a little game you came up with in the honeymoon period of the relationship. Who could break easier after the long distance. You would think that no kissing would be easy, given that not much else was off limits. With his lips between your neck and your ear, he wasn't helping himself, so he asked.

"Did you manage to stay up for my race, gorgeous?"

"Yes, I watched it live, every second. I think I annoyed everyone on Twitter with my recap, even your fans." you reply.

"Yeah? Any standout thoughts I should know about?" He says, curious.

"Your radios, they sounded, good." You give him nothing, but he knows how to take from you. The gears in his brain turn, looking for a way to make you loose. At the end of the day, he was a simple man. All he had to do was ask.

"If you give me a kiss, I ......" He tries to finish his sentence but his mind blanks. He goes for the low hanging fruit, offering to buy you dream outfits and bags. Even when he puts real money where his mouth is, you refuse. Even though it's stupid, you don't want to give him the impression that you're dating him for the money. Carlos moves on to more individual things, promising to make you cum over and over again, to do the thing that makes your legs shake. You gently remind him they if he kisses you first, you make the rules. Therefore you could easily ask for all that and more. You can see it's driving Carlos mad to not be in control. He pulls out the "big guns".

"If you kiss me, I'll consider the threesome idea with Charles?" he tries.

"That was one dream and I regret telling you about it. No thanks, don't wanna be a homewrecker." you counter.

"I'll actually arrange a threesome with Fernando?" he comments.

"Stop slutting out people on the grid. Just because I fantasized about something a couple times doesn't mean I'm suddenly ready to be Eiffel towered or split roasted or whatever you two freaks could come up with." you hold your ground.

"You are the only guy for me. In F1, or outside of it, I only want to be with you. No sharing." You kiss him, aware that you'd loose. Whatever he had planned for you was gonna be good and you knew it.

"Good. I was gonna be worried if you'd said yes. Now, on the topic of saying things, you were awfully quiet earlier. So, we're gonna play another little game, called team radio." You quirk up an eyebrow and ask him to explain.

"It's easy. You tell me what to do and I'll do it. You don't say anything, I'll stop. I'm all about teamwork and following orders, baby." He boasts.

"Yeah, always, huh? Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night. You're a driver. You can't help it. It's in your blood. Being fast, being fucking selfish." You taunt him. Truth is what attracted you most to your boyfriend. His drive, no fucking pun intended.

Carlos pins you down onto the matres, his athlete's reflexes immediately evident. You're trapped beneath his body as he kisses and bites your neck.

"You're already failing at your game there, sweetheart. Thought you'd be the one obeying me. " you remind him. Asking your boyfriend to give up control was like asking a broken clock to display the right time. Yet, even those were right twice a day. Carlos pulled away, waiting for you to tell him what to do. Even though it was his idea, he was already turning against it. Though he had a trick up his sleeve.

You were trying out your new power. First, you asked him to switch to let you be on top. You kissed his neck and chest in a way to bid for time. Usually, by now, his hands would be on your waist, pulling down your underwear. Yet, he was still waiting for a que from you.

"Carlos, can you touch me, please? Just I don't know, rub my clit until I come or something." You ask.

Your boyfriend must be a member of r/maliciouscompliance, because that's what he does. He doesn't take your panties off, he just slides two fingers and presses them against where you need him and rubs. His pace is mundane, not too slow, and not too fast that it feels like he's trying to start a fire. It's just right, the perfect tease.

"You know, you're not very good at this. I know you're all about the flow of things and you shut off your brain when we fuck, sweetheart. But don't make me teach you a lesson here." He says.

You wonder what he means. You can feel his hardness under you, despite the layers of cotton there. You're not a tyrant, so you rub against his cock, needing more. Your futile moans of "Carlos please." don't earn you anything. You're wet, so close thanks to the new stimulation and his repetitive rhythm. You cum and as soon as your boyfriend senses it, he stops.

"Carlos, what the actual fuck?" you ask, your orgasm ruined. He'd never pulled that move before, always touching you more, so you could ride it out, going until your thighs clamp against him in a vice grip.

"You said to rub your clit until you came. You came. I did my job, no?" He replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Oh,so that's how he was gonna play it. Well two people could tease.

You tell him to take off your underwear and his too. Tossing your boyfriend a condom, you ask to see him put it on. He hisses as his fingers trail down his length. Truth it, he's just as needy as you. He was just better at hiding it.

"Do you have a favorite position, hmm Carlos? I wanna see it." You ask. He uses his strength to flip you, ass up in the air. Even in this, he's still careful. With your back arched and face half-burried in the pillow, you say.

"Show me your passion, I want you to go fucking feral, use me like there's no tomorrow."

And he obeys. He burries himself to the hilt inside you. He could be snarky and wait for you to ask him for every thrust. But he lacks the patience for that. He pulls out, almost all the way and thrust back in ferociously. Every "faster" and "harder" he follows. Carlos feels you clench around him, and says.

"If you wanna cum properly, you have to ask. Give team orders to your roque driver."

"Carlos Sainz, you better give me an orgasm and fuck me through it, unless you." You don't get to finish your thought, because your boyfriend's hand makes its way to your clit. This time he makes sure you feel everything to the fullest, giving you more and more. When you recover from your orgasm, you notice that he's still desperate to cum too. You know his tells. His hands gripping your waist a little stronger. The faint drops of sweat on his forehead. The way his thrusts are slower. You could show him that revenge is best served cold. But you can't resist him just after he blows his load, the moment where he's still fucking into you, as if intent on making it stick. On making your pussy memorize the shape of his cock.

"Carlos, fuck, go ahead and come. You deserve it, pretty boy." You say and watch him as he falls apart, bottom lip between his teeth.

You're both spent. After he cleans up and tosses the condom in the trash and you pee, you melt in his arms.

"I think this made me sweatier than Miami." He says. Aftercare sweet talk was obviously not his forte.

"I think that if we go for a second round, my work shift will end. Wanna make your girl steal some company time?" You reply.

[wisecura]

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1

p.2  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.3

p.2

AN: Thank you for reading part 2! Again each of these will be around 3k in length. Enjoy!

warnings: i'm putting these here for future chapters too, and ill sprinkle some in as I go. I want to make it clear, there is no underage sex, but later on there will be some more raunchy shit. this is somewhat non-canon compliant-make it up as I go

-ok for the real warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.

Another

Cleaning had always been second nature to you, a skill drilled into you by your clan as a symbol of discipline and control.

The ways of a proper young lady.

Back then, it had been another way to meet their rigid standards, but now, in Toji’s apartment, it served a different purpose. You weren’t trying to meet anyone’s expectations. It felt more like you were creating a space that felt livable, even comforting. As you scrubbed and tidied, echoes of your clan’s demands lingered in your mind.

Megumi stayed holed up in his room, avoiding you, though you suspected it wasn’t out of rudeness. Maybe he was still figuring you out, testing the waters before deciding how to interact. You couldn't blame him. This was all new and strange for both of you.

As you scrubbed the counters and sorted through laundry, you tried to keep yourself busy, hoping to quiet the restless hum of your thoughts. The spiraling.

But the silence of the apartment only amplified them, leaving you with little to do but reflect.

You thought long and hard about your next move—about what you wanted to do and what you were willing to endure. You hadn’t expected to make it this far, away from the suffocating grip of your clan, away from the ways they’d meticulously instilled into you. This already felt like a step up. 

No one was yelling. No one was crying. And most importantly, no one was punishing you for merely existing. And for once, you could breathe. 

But could you settle here? Could you turn this into a real home? The thought carried a weight you hadn’t anticipated, especially when you considered who you were married to.

Toji Fushiguro.

The infamous thirty-something gambler whose reputation preceded him. His name carried weight—none of it good. You’d only heard whispers about him before, rumors about the "Sorcerer Killer" who couldn’t see curses but had carved a place for himself in a world that didn’t want him. The name he was making for himself wasn’t the kind anyone would aspire to have. And now, he was your husband. Could he truly be better than what you’d left behind?

Marriage had never been a simple thing for people like you. It was a transaction, a tool for power and alliances, not a partnership. You'd settled your thoughts with that. But you couldn’t be sure what kind of man Toji would turn out to be. So far, he was an enigma—evasive, blunt, and not exactly brimming with warmth.

When you first met Toji, you’d been terrified.

His voice, gruff and laced with irritation, felt like a warning in itself, and his towering, muscular frame only added to the daunting image. You hadn’t known what to expect from him—your mind raced with possibilities. Many clan marriages ended in misery. Beaten wives, suffocating restrictions, and vows that served only to bind. The unknown had loomed large that day.

You’d been genuinely shocked when Toji had even shown up to the meeting. After all, he already had a history—a wife before you, a notorious rebellious streak, and a reputation soaked in blood. What had happened to her? The question lingered in your mind, twisting your thoughts into a frantic swirl as you tried to piece together what kind of man he was and what exactly you might be walking into. Not that you had much of a choice.

To your relief, he left shortly after the meeting, without forcing himself on you or issuing a set of suffocating rules. But even without his demands, you already knew your place. How could you not? The weight of the clan’s expectations had been drilled into you for as long as you could remember.

Still, the questions remained.

Could you trust him? Could he truly protect you from the very people who had pushed you into this marriage? Or would he become like the others you’d seen—the cruel, controlling men who treated their wives as tools, not partners? For now, all you could do was wait and hope.

If things got sticky, you could run. But the thought terrified you. Your clan wasn’t known for letting their investments go so easily.  They had their motives, their expectations for you, and you knew better than to think they’d let you walk away unscathed. The marriage was a tool to them, a means to an end, and the moment you stopped being useful, they wouldn’t hesitate to dissolve it.

The questions would start soon if you didn’t make an appearance at the estate for a ‘visit.’ You’d have to come up with something to keep them satisfied, a way to buy yourself more time. But would it be enough? You weren’t about to stoop to spying, but maybe if you offered them the bare minimum, it could hold them off. Still, you knew the risk. The moment they decided you weren’t fulfilling your purpose, they’d drag you back.

Back to the suffocating walls of their estate. Back to the life you’d fought so hard to escape. Back to another arranged marriage—this time, likely to someone far worse. Someone who wouldn’t tolerate even a shred of independence. The thought was unbearable, and yet, the fear of that possibility clung to you like a shadow, refusing to let go.

You had no illusions about what they were capable of. They’d find you. They’d make an example of you. You’d seen it happen before—to women who had dared to defy their place, who had tried to escape. The consequences were always swift, brutal, and served as a warning to others.

The only thing keeping you from that fate was this house.

Toji.

For all his flaws, for all the uncertainty that surrounded him, Toji was the barrier between you and the life you so desperately wanted to escape. The clan couldn’t touch you here—not while you were under his roof. His name and infamous reputation were enough to keep them at bay for now. But what about when he left the clan for good? You’d heard it whispered countless times—how he’d distanced himself, how he was already one step out the door.

So why had he even agreed to this marriage? It didn’t serve him. If anything, it seemed like another chain, another tie he’d likely resent. What had convinced him to take on a responsibility that did him no favors?

The thought nagged at you as you clung to the fragile sense of safety he unknowingly provided. As much as you despised the precariousness of your situation, you couldn’t ignore that he was the only thing keeping the clan’s shadow from falling over you entirely.

For now, you had to play the game carefully. Toji was unpredictable, but at least he wasn’t actively cruel. You’d take your chances with him over returning to the hell you’d left behind.

Still, he hadn’t returned, yet. When would he come home?  Sure it'd only been a day, but...

Would he even explain what this arrangement meant for you both, or just leave you to figure it out on your own? Would he have a list of rules like your clan house? Would you have expectations to sleep with him? You let out a sigh, feeling the weight of uncertainty press heavier on your shoulders. The hours were dragging. 

When lunchtime rolled around, you prepared food for both yourself and Megumi. Doubling the portions, you were glad he was starting to warm up to you, even if only slightly. Knocking softly on his door, you waited for a moment before it creaked open.

Megumi stood there, his expression unreadable as usual, but he took the plate with a small nod. “Thanks,” he muttered before retreating back into his room, the door closing firmly behind him.

So, you ate alone.

It wasn’t the solitude that stung the most—it was the familiarity of it. Sitting at the quiet table, your thoughts drifted to the countless meals you’d eaten alone back at the clan house. Sure this home was better than your previous, yet the echoes of those days crept back in, uninvited, and settled heavily in your chest. You’d thought leaving that life behind would make things different, that here, in this little apartment, you could find something resembling peace.

But for now, the silence was deafening.

You reminded yourself to remember that this was better and you needed to be patient. Megumi wasn’t cruel or rude—just guarded. He was still so young, still figuring out his place in all of this. And maybe, you thought, you needed to adjust to him just as much as he needed to adjust to you.

So, you cleared your plate, brushed off the dull ache settling in your chest, and told yourself that this was temporary. It was just a matter of time.

Later in the day, you decided to step out for groceries. The apartment was practically empty, the fridge holding little more than condiments and a few questionable leftovers. You couldn’t fathom how Toji and Megumi had been surviving off such meager scraps.  You’d noticed the state of things your first day there, picking up a few essentials just to scrape by. But today, you decided it was time to stock up properly.

Standing by the front door, you hesitated for a moment, glancing toward Megumi’s room. A small part of you debated whether to ask him to come along. It might have been nice to have the company, and perhaps the outing could bridge some of the growing gap between you. But you quickly pushed the thought aside.

He was just a kid, and this wasn’t his responsibility. It was yours. You were the one trying to build a home here, the one who had stepped into this precarious role.

With a quiet sigh, you grabbed your shopping list and headed out the door. It wasn’t a long walk to the nearby market, but as you made your way down the street, a faint unease crept over you. You couldn’t help but think back to your clan and their constant monitoring.

By the time you returned, your arms were weighed down with bags. Maybe you’d gotten carried away, but everything seemed so necessary. Stumbling through the front door, you dumped the bags onto the counter with a relieved sigh.

Megumi peeked out from the doorway, alerted by the sound. “You’re back?”

“Yeah,” you said, turning slightly to smile at him, still catching your breath. “Got some food for tonight.”

He frowned, his gaze shifting to the hefty bags on the counter.

“Didja walk all this back yourself?”

“Mhmm,” you replied with a small hum, stretching your back before reaching to start putting things away.

Before you could even grab the first item, Megumi stepped into the kitchen, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he gently nudged you aside. “Go rest. I’ll put it ‘way,” he muttered, his voice low and rough around the edges, but without any real bite.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the unexpected offer, but decided not to argue. Instead, you took a seat at the kitchen table, watching him move around the room. His movements were deliberate and efficient as he pulled items from the bags. He inspected each one carefully, as though weighing its importance before putting it into its proper place.

For a moment, you forgot the weight of everything else and simply watched. Megumi, for all his prickliness, had his own way of showing appreciation—even if he didn’t say it out loud. It was hard not to notice how much care he put into something so simple. He still reminded you of a grumpy old cat—aloof, guarded, but with moments of surprising thoughtfulness. There was something endearing about it, about him. A small giggle escaping you as the thought crossed your mind.

Megumi glanced over his shoulder, his sharp eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What’s so funny?” he asked, his tone flat, though the faint red at the tips of his ears betrayed his irritation.

“Nothing,” you replied with a light chuckle, a small smile playing on your lips. “Just thinking about how teenagers can be so stubborn sometimes.”

“Stubborn?” he repeated, his tone edged with skepticism. “I’m not stubborn. You’re acting like I’m some little kid or something.”

The amused smile tugging at your lips only grew as you tilted your head at him. “Well, aren’t you? Just a little bit, maybe?”

His scowl deepened, and the flush on his cheeks darkened, the faint hint of embarrassment making him look even more endearing. “I’m not a kid. I’m almost fourteen,” he muttered, his voice firm, though it teetered dangerously close to a pout.

You chuckled, unable to resist teasing him just a bit more. He was too cute when he got ruffled. “Fourteen, huh? Practically a grown-up. My bad.”

Megumi’s gaze darted away briefly before snapping back to you, his tone quieter but still holding a note of defiance. “You’re not that much older than me. You’re what? Sixteen?”

His words startled a laugh out of you, and you shook your head, unable to hide your amusement. “Sixteen? Try eighteen, Megumi. I’m officially an adult, thank you very much.”

His eyes widened slightly at the revelation before narrowing again, as if processing the information. “Eighteen?” he muttered under his breath, his skepticism clear. “You don’t look eighteen.”

Feigning offense, you straightened your posture. “Well, I am,” you said with mock indignation. “And as the adult here, I think I get to call you a kid.”

Megumi huffed, crossing his arms as the faint pink tint spread to his ears. “You don’t act like an adult,” he mumbled, quieter this time. “You’re more like a bossy older sister.”

That made you grin even wider. Was that supposed to be an insult? Because it only made him sound more adorable. “Bossy older sister, huh? I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He avoided your gaze, pretending to focus on folding one of the empty grocery bags. “Take it however you want,” he muttered, his tone clipped, though the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement.

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you said playfully. “But I’m still older than you, and that makes you the kid, like it or not.”

Megumi frowned but didn’t argue further. Instead, he busied himself with the counter, his lips pressed into a firm line. “I’m not a kid,” he mumbled again, though the conviction in his voice had softened.

You raised your hands in mock surrender, your tone kind and teasing. “Alright, alright. You’re not a kid. You’re a very mature almost-fourteen-year-old. Better?”

He didn’t respond right away, but the faint blush lingering on his cheeks gave him away. Turning his attention back to the counter, he muttered, “Whatever,” though the twitch at the corner of his mouth told you he wasn’t entirely annoyed.

You leaned back in your chair, watching him with a mix of fondness and curiosity. Megumi had a way of endearing himself without even realizing it. His insistence on not being treated like a kid, the way he tried to act older than he was—it was all so very… Megumi-esque. And you hadn't even know the kid for long. Not even a day.

“You know,” you said gently, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to rush to grow up so fast. Fourteen—or almost fourteen—is a good age to just… be.”

Megumi glanced at you, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as if to challenge your words, but there was no real bite in his expression. “I’m not rushing anything,” he said after a pause, his tone quieter, more thoughtful. “I just don’t want to be treated like some helpless kid.”

Now that got your attention. You tilted your head, your smile softening. “I don’t think you’re helpless, Megumi. Not at all. I just think it’s okay to let people care about you sometimes. It doesn’t make you less grown-up.”

He didn’t reply, his gaze flickering back to the counter, but you could see the wheels turning in his head. And then there was the way he lingered. The groceries were already put away, yet he didn’t leave. He didn’t know why he stayed. Maybe he didn’t want to admit it. But his actions spoke louder than words ever could: maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind you being there after all. Psycho-ex of his dads or otherwise.

While making dinner, Megumi hovered close to your elbows, his dark eyes following your every movement with quiet intensity. He didn’t say a word, but his focus was unwavering, soaking in every detail. Your cooking so far had been phenomenal. Enough to make the kid jealous. He wanted to learn, that much was clear—wanted to memorize the steps, the measurements, the little techniques you used. You had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t just curiosity. 

His silence didn’t bother you. If anything, it gave you the perfect opportunity to chatter away, filling the room with a one-sided conversation that you hoped wasn’t entirely unwelcome. You explained every step meticulously, breaking it down like a cooking show. Megumi didn’t interrupt or huff at you. Instead, he absorbed it all like a sponge, his head tilting slightly when you mentioned something new.

“Toji must not be much of a cook,” you remarked at one point, glancing at him with a teasing smile. His lips twitched upward for the briefest moment, a ghost of a smile that made your chest tighten with warmth. Even when you explained the most basic things, like how to dice an onion properly, Megumi listened as though it were the most important lecture of his life.

The thought made you pause for a moment. It made sense—Megumi was still young, and cooking had always been considered a woman’s role in traditional clan life. And considering Toji’s seemingly chaotic lifestyle and the lack of a maternal figure, it was no wonder this felt new to him.

Still, the conversation flowed a little easier that evening. Each fleeting moment of ease melted your heart a little more. You were already developing a soft spot for the kid, despite his grumpy attitude. That much was obvious. You hadn’t had many interactions with children back at the clan estate—everything there had been too rigid, too suffocating for anything resembling normal relationships. So this, the tentative beginnings of friendship, felt… nice.

But even in those moments, there was still a frigid layer of distance he maintain between you two—a protective barrier he refused to let you pass. Distrusting, yes, but not beyond reach. He was still trying to figure you out, sizing you up, before deciding whether you were even worth the effort of trusting.

Why the hell was this kid so frosty? Was it Toji? The absence of a mother? Or something else entirely? You weren’t sure, but the guarded way Megumi carried himself—the abrasiveness, the defensive huffiness—stirred something in you.

You’d seen plenty of kids like him back in the clan house. Some were cold and indifferent, their walls impenetrable. Others carried arrogance like armor, wielding it to hide their insecurities. But the ones who stayed with you—the ones who truly stuck in your memory—were those too weak to defend themselves, cast aside for showing too much emotion. Beaten into shape. Megumi wasn’t like that, obviously. But the thought of him enduring anything similar made you feel...protective.

When you finally sat down to eat, the food turned out fantastic. Megumi, ever stoic, simply nodded in approval as he ate, but you caught the way his chopsticks moved a little faster than usual, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride.

“Not bad, right?” you teased lightly, hoping to draw a reaction from him.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours for a fleeting second before he mumbled, “It’s good.” Another almost-smile.

It was your second day in and you were starting to feel like this wasn't such a bad arrangement.

p.3?

AN: Thank you for reading! Please reblog and like if you enjoy this series!

[localwebslingers]

The drone actually rested on his hand like it was taking a break and Peter only had further confirmation that they were masters of emotional manipulation. Great ones at that, because they didn't even realize it. They could buzz at him like they wanted him to follow and he would do so all day until they powered down to rest. Assuming that they did that kind of thing in the first place, he hadn't exactly been shown the whole, robotic makeup of their design. Just sat and watched Harry do some minor cleaning and maintenance on a few of them. He looked back to catch the knowing smile but nodded after the question, "A few pretty good ones, actually, sometimes I still go to them to skate around for a little while."

Not as much as he once did, not when he could swing through all of New York and run along the buildings as a way to clear his head now. Motions that were nearly second nature and encouraged by instinct rather than thinking it through when he really got going.

Peter started to offer to show Harry one of the spots the next time he came by before seeing the flash of red and blue just as that same, buzzing sense went off in his head that he'd felt meeting the older Peter the first time. Familiar and weird, some inherent sense of recognition for, apparently, other spider-people. He looked over to see the other land, and watch the eyes on the mask widen with expression as he was looked at. Was the same buzz going off for him or was it just surprise that another person was there? Both seemed pretty possible. A light squeeze was given to the hand in his before Peter spoke up, "But your ninth guess might be kinda close."

It was tense, he couldn't help it, and if he was there to try and help Harry and be supportive, that meant bad jokes to try and cut some of the tension as best he could. The drone also seemed to think that a new person meant the break was over, which was unfortunate and disappointing but probably best for now. Letting him raise the hand slightly, especially when he could see tells of tension and hesitance that were similar to his own, "I'm just here to help go over the information and explain stuff, not here to stir anything up."

|| @inhcritance ||

The drone couldn't investigate him, not like a living creature could... but it could scan him, yes, and it could buzz up to the offered free hand and decide to rest on it, because that had been something a lot of people had commented on, during the first trials... and while it wouldn't let itself be touched outside of the Research Station proper, and would fly off if Peter attempted it, for now it was there, saving energy.

And there, watching Peter and the drone and letting himself be distracted from their upcoming conversation, Harry wished he had Peter's ability for photography, because it was a moment he really wished he could capture properly. But he didn't have it, and selfishly, he really didn't want to let go of him just yet.

"We couldn't have the drones feel abandoned, of course." Harry agreed instead, as he considered Peter's words and offered him a smile that meant he very much knew what Peter was doing, and was thankful for it anyway.

"Did you find any good spots?" He asked, not long before a figure landed on the other side of the rooftop, dressed in red and blue and familiar enough and crouching in a tension that mirrored Harry's as soon as he saw him, and then turned into something far more astonished, the lenses widening as he regarded Peter, then turned towards Harry once more.

"Whatever conclusion you're reaching," Harry told him, not letting go of Peter's hand and not caring if his once-friend noticed, "you're likely wrong." And then, "Ben, this is Spider-Man." And he managed to keep his tone even enough, which he almost congratulated himself for. "Spider-Man, this is Ben. And the situation is serious enough that we should talk. Is the kid coming?"

And Harry didn't miss his universe's Peter's barely hidden tension, even as he stood up, not approaching just yet but very much watching Peter carefully.

"No." Spider-Man said, in the end. "He isn't."

Whether he was busy, or Peter hadn't trusted Harry close to him, he didn't explain.

And for a moment, for a long, terrible moment, Harry felt hurt by the distance, by the distrust, before reminding himself that it had been, and still was, very much his choice.

@localwebslingers

[hyog-blog]

Fangs of Fortune (ep. 06 - ep. 07)

Uh, not Li Lun, out of all people, making everyone finally question why Zhu Yan actually killed Yichen's brother and all those people years ago. We know he lost control over his malicious energy, but why didn't anyone ask him why it happened? Come on, people, you seem to be so smart))

Well, Wen Xiao seems to be accepting enough to not care about what our gorgeous Demon Lord has done in the past, which is quite refreshing. Ambiguous, morally grey characters need more unconditional love (especially when they're, uh, 34,000 years old? XD). But he doesn't even seem to be so 'grey' at this point - he's doing too many good things right now.

The whole thing with being a 'vessel for malicious energy' is quite intriguing. Was he born like that? Can he actually stop 'the cycle of rebirth'? Why did he 'lose control' after so many years of cultivation? I'm also trying to figure out the timeline - the killings must have happened after he dropped Wen Xiao off at what seemed to be the gates to the demon-hunting bureau. But she wasn't staying there when that stuff happened? Did his demonic self come back there just to wreak havoc or for some other reason? Was Li Lun involved? Mmmm, the plot is deliciously mysterious, I will have to wait to get those answers.

Also, I can't even be angry with Li Lun at this point, although he's playing the bad guy now - the poor baby was so visibly hurt when Zhu Yan called him a scumbag. And that painful look he had when our Demon Lord thought something along the lines 'screw you, I know how to wake this boy up from his nightmare' and pierced himself with Yichen's sword (which, uh, seems to be quite a recurring motif and the symbolism of it isn't escaping me, nope XD). In the world of jianghu, the next best thing you can do to show you CARE apart from cutting sleeves is to stab (or get stabbed by) the person you care about. Or get stabbed FOR the person you care about.

I also love how effortlessly Yichen is third-wheeling without creating a feeling that he's actually third-wheeling XD Wen Xiao is obviously biased towards Zhu Yan, now even more so that she knows he IS that Great Demon who accompanied her and the Bai Ze Goddess all those years ago. I would totally trust him, too, if I were her. I also love the messed-up dynamic of a former caretaker/child who's grown up because now Zhu Yan definitely doesn't give us those parental vibes, he's oozing sensuality wherever he goes (and him pretending to be all hurt so she stays with him, ahah, that whole sequence was cute and hilarious). And Zhu Yan saying something along the lines that they now get to 'meet all over again' - was it to build a new relationship with her from scratch? M-hmm, yummy, utterly delicious :D

And you can see how Yichen kinda sorta admits defeat in the way Wen Xiao no longer needs his protection against the 'big bad demon' (the man is using his big bad demonic energy to push her swing, for Christ's sake XD), but still can't let the other man go so easily because of REASONS and that 'you'll have to pay for your sins either way' thing still going on between them. Zhu Yan does know what buttons to push when it comes to Yichen, but the feeling seems to be quite mutual (they're cute together and their interactions are so yummy 😍). That scene at the temple is EVERYTHING. And then at Zhu Yan's mansion with the swing. Is he swinging both ways? Ahah XD For a 34,000-year-old being I don't see how that could be an issue)))

Okay, cutting and piercing still seem to be the show's love language and I APPROVE (never had a kink like that, but there's a first thing for everything, I guess XD). The undertones just make it all so yum))

The introduction of the new character, Yinglei, was hilarious))) We also find out that the Wilderness is crumbling down, which makes the whole Bai Ze token thing even more important.

/and I've finally reached the picture limit in one tumblr post, ahah XD/

[eatmeeraw]

never tell anyone anything ever. never tell anyone anything again.

Escapism.

summary: you’re in her friend group. you two have been close for months and you slowly fell in love with her more and more. you suspected the feeling was mutual because of how attached she was, how she behaved like you two were together, until tara began detaching and avoiding you, not showing up for you nor your friends anymore…

category: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end.

warnings: swearing, idk if my writing is good sorry if it disgusts you, avoidant attachment everywhere, venting, alcohol usage, smoking, dissociation (r doubts she’s alive). portrayals might not be 100% canon. might not be completely proofread. there are mentions of tara’s trauma with amber and some behaviors she has because of it.

word count: 4,9k.

A/N: first fanfic, kinda nervous. i hope everything is okay and some people are going to like this. ethan and quinn aren’t ghostfaces in here, but the group knows they’re siblings, anika isn’t dead, and they’re all still in the friendgroup with the core four. ghostface isn’t present. tara is a bit of a emo who actually lags and denies everytime she feels emotions here. Error 404 kinda thing, but as the fanfic continues she gets better.

you are settled on the couch, your body sinking into the soft, cold, and miraculously still clean cushions, their fabric feels good against your skin, making your muscles relax. you could hear the voices of other people overlapping each other furiously, and smell the scent of alcohol, coca-cola and tobacco mix in the air.

you inhale just because you need to, you didn’t appreciate such strong smells, but you could handle it. you always handled it.

the room is large, but not too overcrowded, making the party feel a little bit less dangerous.

groups of friends are chatting around you, some people are dancing, you could catch some of the guests kissing or directly, shamelessly, making out, the sounds of their lips meeting, their spit, and everything else almost makes you nauseous.

the dim and warm hues of the lights are hitting you and the others, and the music in the background isn’t too loud, but loud enough to set the atmosphere and make people move to the rhythm of the sweet, animated music.

you luckily aren’t alone: sam, chad, mindy, quinn and anika were around you, on the couches, making short and light conversations. not everyone in the group was in the mood for partying, like sam, who was blankly looking at the ceiling, jaw clenching sometimes. you can see especially chad go around and try to flirt with some people, entertaining himself after the disappointment he had with tara. unrequited love always hurts, and you know it all too well. he isn’t the only one disappointed.

mindy and anika are creating the conversations mostly, quinn following them and playing their game every time, ethan, instead, her brother, is extremely silent, looking around like a lost puppy who couldn’t understand how to have fun. he always has been so weirdly shy.

you are lost in your thoughts, until anika talks again. « oh! have y’all seen tara? sam, any news? » before tara’s older sister could talk, chad opened his mouth. « she didn’t even show up tonight…weird. » « yeah, she hasn’t been around lately. didn’t even text back these days. i sent her a message about tonight’s party and she left me on seen…rude » mindy explains, looking at the ground, crossing her arms. you can hear a hint of anxiety in her voice.

« i mean, she has been through a lot- » ethan talks, surprisingly, but his sister interrupts him. « it’s not like her to disappear like that, but…i dunno. » she shrugs, now fidgeting with her fingers, suddenly serious again.

you drown in your bitter thoughts again, as you hear the others talk. their sentences a echo in the room of your fears and your indescribable confusion, making you feel slightly hazy even though no alcohol is flowing in your veins.

« y/n? » quinn calls for you, but you don’t reply, completely zoned out. « y/n… » another time, and this time you look at her, frowning as to invite her to go ahead and say what she needs to say. « when was the last time she replied to you? » she asks, and you grab your phone to check the chat. you scroll up, because ten or more messages were sent by you during those days where she fully disappeared. a worried you. a worried you that was still there, lingering, being the skeleton of your essence. « two weeks ago. »

and the question was asked to everyone else in the friend group: they all hadn’t heard from her since a week ago. they stare at you, and your breath hitches in annoyance and paranoia, as you are the center of the worst type of attention possible. you were sure it was your fault, you probably said something that made her get icky and disgusted, like always. you softly tremble in your seat as they discuss how, maybe, something was going on with you, and then sam talks, interrupting the endless, useless gossip that was gravitating in the air.

« can i talk, now? » she asks, crossing her arms tightly on her chest, head tilting slightly. ethan nods, and she continues her sentence. « she’s okay, just stressed. she’ll return. » her posture was tensed, her jaw just persistently clenched every time she’d close her mouth. you knew something was up, you knew she knew. anika sighs, and everyone nods, except you.

as the context of the conversation shifts, making the previous calmness of your friends come back, you stay there, you remain where everyone was investigating heavily on the girl you always loved.

you just felt the urge to cry: she’s so dear to you, the love you feel is like an eternal explosion, butterflies rising and falling inside your stomach, a soft hand grasping your heart: her hand. when you first started liking her, everything was smooth, like an oiled surface. the feelings were unspoken, no kiss was given, but, oh, how her eyes would sparkle every time you entered the room, every time you joined a conversation, every time you simply passed by.

her cheeks flushed, her softness being between your hands, she was malleable and weak for how much she seemed to care about you but you loved her the way she was. her hands loved to be in your hair, or on your cheeks, her fingers would perfectly interlock with yours, and her arms found comfort encircling your waist or neck.

but, still, at some point, she chose to act like you were dead, like right now.

are you dead? you aren’t sure, you can bet that your heart is beating still. you try to re-focus on your friends, whom you hear giggling in the background, giving one another the entertainment they needed in a similar party.

« so…what’s up with that guy you fucked, quinn? » mindy teases, giggling afterward, making the others gasp. quinn squints her eyes, you see it as a little detail that you actually appreciated about her. but, god, if she, sometimes, was annoying. especially when you were in tara’s apartment and you could hear continuous moans in the background while you were trying to have a normal conversation with tara, or with sam.

« huh, we text here and there…he’s fine, i guess. » she shrugs, like nothing was important, like he was just a passenger, someone that existed in her space just to satisfy her stupid needs once, and then disappeared. « no second date? you’re slippin’, quinn » chad jokes, raising an eyebrow, a hint of startle on his face. sam, instead, wasn’t surprised at all. « no. i’d say i prefer variety. »

« what a shame, anika and i were searching for a couple to go to a double date with. » mindy affirmed, anika nodded in agreement, a little pout painted on her face.

you think about how sweet it would be, to go on their double date bringing tara with you. maybe you would end up in a lousy fast food, or maybe an elegant, cozy restaurant with all her favorite dishes. you sighed, shaking your head softly as you looked around. you gazed at sam again, she was lazily scrolling through her phone, always serious and tensed up.

you get closer to her, whispering, as everyone else is distracted. « …did i do something? ». tara’s older sister looks up at you, and you see her turning off her phone as she pushes the tip of her tongue against the inside of her cheek. she takes a deep breath before replying. « no, she’s just…complicated. » she looks around almost as if she could be there, secretly listening to your conversation. « it’s not just you. give her space. »

you stare around, still disoriented, if not more than before. you decide to get up and walk towards the table that holds bottles of beer, pouring yourself a cup and tasting the bold, cold bitterness while it fills your mouth and goes down your throat, bringing you relief. you drink a little bit more before everything gets destroyed by something that you didn’t exactly expect.

you see tara, the friend group slowly walking closer to her, and you do the same thing, still holding the plastic cup, now as warm as your palm.

« hey, you made it. » her sister awkwardly says, waving a hand, and tara would just softly nod and wave her hand back. « WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? » mindy screams and tara giggles, the nervousness was clear, she was avoiding eye contact with every single person in front of her like it would be a potential danger, like it would make the plague come for her body and soul. « we thought you went full hermit mode, dude. »

« i…didn’t think so many people would come. » tara murmured, looking down. felt off, like a withered rose, a rotten fruit, a bleeding pomegranate. tara looks at you, a strange spark in her eyes. you glance at her back, hesitantly, and you feel like death isn’t so bad, suddenly. you are hoping someone would show their guns and threaten everyone to have no mercy upon them in that exact moment. but no one saves you, saviors don’t exist, you remind yourself.

« hi. » she murmurs, forcing a smile.

« hi. » you reply, showing the palm of your free hand, waving it slowly, just a lazy move. she nods and goes away, showing a lack of interest in any sort of interaction between her and the group. they remain skeptical, and you just walk away again, gulping down every single drop of the drink you had in your cup.

a hour passes. you spend it by secretly glancing at tara, or at least trying to, since every time you would set your eyes on her, she would catch the opportunity to make creepy, long-lasting eye contact with you. you hate it, you hate it because you blush, and you can’t help but feel embarrassed by the slight, useless attention she gives you with so much nonchalance. after this, she is surely not going to talk to you again, you think.

the lights that once made you comfortable inside a house you barely knew the owner of, now make you irrevocably disturbed. too intense, too blinding, they would get in the way as you tried to understand what tara was doing, but it actually wasn’t much: talking to sam, looking around, scrolling on the phone, and grabbing drinks.

nothing to see. but everything to think about: many questions would torture your mind, and make your soul beg to leave your body at once. but what did you do? what made tara so distant? is it actually you that is the problem?

you stare at her again. this time, she was talking with mindy and anika, her expression cold, blank, like emotions were nothing to her but ants she could step on and kill with no hesitancy. she shook her head at them, and then looked behind them, at you. her big, brownish eyes scan you, her lips are slightly parted and her expression always neutral, but somewhat altered by something else, looking almost dubious or...scared?

you are the one that breaks eye contact, grabbing a pack of cigarettes that was hidden in the pocket of your jeans, going out of the party, not talking to anyone anymore. you feel too dizzy, too bothered, to even function properly, to even talk to someone without crumbling in a million pieces. you feel almost miserable, too. you have been desperately chasing something that, clearly, wasn’t meant for you.

she doesn’t love you, does she? your gaze hardens as you light up a cigarette with your lighter, looking at the emptiness of the dark night sky, the stars are barely visible and it was saddening. maybe you are like that to tara, too: barely visible, and not worth squinting her eyes for.

you are just a fainting star for her and it destroys you. when are people going to figure out you exist? you breathe, you are alive, are you not? are you dead?

you put your free hand on your chest, searching, looking desperately for the beat of your heart. as you find it you exhale loudly, and your hand becomes a clenched fist.

you feel it, why doesn’t anyone else feel it, too? you grab with force your cell phone from your pocket, scrolling through your new notifications fast, not even glancing at them with great attention. chad asked where you were, mindy called you. it meant nothing. you opened tara’s chat, scrolling up, gazing at the messages you two would send each other.

you smile bitterly, as the phone lights up your face, which was wholly taken by nostalgia.

a month ago

tara 💗: can u come over rn??

you: i don’t know, are quinn and sam around?

tara 💗: no

tara 💗: please? we needa watch the movie we talked about :)

you: alrrrr, coming

memories flash in front of your eyes, her apartment and the sweet scent of hers, the popcorns, her adorable giggles that would give you a reason to exist. you inhale deeply, your lips wrapped around the cigarette, and you almost choke on it as you hear tara’s voice.

« throw that cigarette. » direct, almost mocking, and you don’t look her way, avoiding to even acknowledge the fact she is talking to you. really a coward thing to do. you exhale the smoke, and you watch it get lost in the fresh air of the night.

as you get the cigarette’s orangish butt close to your lips, you feel a hand blocking your wrist, the other grabbing the cigarette by the white casing wrapping around the burning tobacco. you watch the youngest carpenter hurl the item on the ground, putting it out by smashing the heel of her shoe against it with great force, looking at you.

« what the fuck? » you mutter, your cheeks slightly red. is it the alcohol or her presence making you react like that? her cologne was slowly dominating the scent that the cigarette was producing, filling your nostrils, your lungs. you would exhale with great hesitation, aching for the perfume you missed for days.

you, in a rush, turn off the phone, putting it inside your pocket again. your chest feels heavy, your breathing is irregular and you can’t grasp again the control you had before checking the past messages.

« smoking is bad. » tara hisses, and you raise you eyebrows, skeptical by the reaction she has. impressed also by how smoothly she came, how you didn’t notice for not even a moment someone was lurking. you reply, your voice cracking mid-sentence, making you melt in shame: « also alcohol is bad, but i saw you drink with no shame tonight. »

« you did, too. » « so if i smash my head against the wall you’re gonna do it too? »

silence.

you take a deep breath, avoiding watching her in the eyes, you just can’t. confusion is even more marked now, and you bite your lower lip trying to take some of the frustration out of you, but it lingers still, it haunts you totally.

you feel played, like a light that gets continuously turned on and off. now she shows she cares, turning on that light, but those two weeks when the light was off? what did they mean? you can ask her, you have her right in front of you, and the alcohol, somehow, makes you bold, a brave girl confronting the cause of her fears.

« why did you disappear? why was i the first you ran away from? » you question with a shaky voice, and you see her expressionless face falter, turning into something more confusing. is the spark in her eye sadness, or something else?

silence, again. for a few moments, she just watches, as if she didn’t have a voice, as if she was trying to communicate everything telepathically to you.

then, she talks.

you see her hesitate, remain with her lips parted longer than needed, and you wonder what was she trying to cover. « why do you care? i’m here now, so. » she hints a giggle, you know tara is actively trying to ease the tension, somehow. but she’s failing, because your expression hardens more, your eyebrows furrow. « are you serious? » you almost bark.

you slowly feel the anger knock at the door of your throat, wanting to come out. still, you bottled up. still, you swallowed down the loath. you force your gaze to soften. « why do i care? how do you- shit »

you take a step ahead, turning slightly towards the nothingness that is seated beside you and making your shoulders face her for a brief moment. you cover your mouth, taking a deep breath against your palm.

« you think it’s that simple? you think it’s easy to see you walk away without saying anything? you’re my friend, i thought some bad shit happened to you. » you laugh nervously, you see guilt in her eyes as you glance at her, but also…disappointment. like she expected something more.

« fuck, i even talked to sam. you know how awkward it is. » you try to change the context of the conversation as you feel a part of you beg to let the fear out, all the worries she caused, all the paranoia you felt that kept you awake at night. the insomnia, the poignant thoughts that would keep you alarmed.

tara laughs, but it sounds fake, programmed. she slowly turns serious as she sees you not even hinting a smile. « i’m sorry, okay? i just needed space. » she fidgets with the hem of her shirt, almost painfully torturing it. you can see the regret showing, but being denied by tara herself.

« for what? what did i even do? » « nothing. » you huff, befuddled by her ways, she is making you feel like you are in an unlimited limbo. you completely lose it. some tears prick your eyes, you gaze at her almost like you wanted her dead.

« you know what? fine. » you bark, and you walk away with hasty steps, the silence from her was the strongest, most hurtful sound you could feel at this moment. the only thing covering it were your heels striking furiously the ground, until you stop.

your walk gets interrupted by a hand grabbing and squeezing your shoulder, and tara is panting. maybe you walked too rapidly, until now. you gaze at her, surprised and still confused, a tesr goes down your visage. your head is clouded, the alcohol you have inside your body isn’t helping at all.

« okay, i’ll- i’ll tell you. » she says, quietly, taking a deep breath in. you frown, her hand lingers, not letting you go, going down until it reaches your forearm, the grip tightening again, fearing you’d escape, exactly like she did. « i was…scared. » « of what? »

she freezes, looking down at the asphalt beneath your feet, tapping on your shoulder obsessively, reflecting, opening her mouth before closing it again.

a sigh. « i-i mean, you started treating me so w-well and i got- it was so- i didn’t…» « sorry, i won’t do it again. » you shrug, and she squeezes your arm painfully tight. your breath hitches, and as she notices, she lets your arm go. « it’s not what i meant. i…» she swallows hard, putting a hand on her forehead.

« it’s that after what happened…» she stops, putting her hands behind her back. oh, you know it all too well. sam talked to you about it when she felt like you were close enough to them to deserve to know, more as a warning than a demonstration of closeness

she continues: « with…amber. i can’t risk again. » she hesitates before saying her name, almost as if her name was a forbidden word, a spell, a death sentence. it held weight, but she acted like she would show up if she said her name too many times. and the umpteenth confirmation is in front of you: she looks around, looking at the empty streets, checking to see if someone is watching. if amber is watching. « but i’m not amber, tara. » you remind her, crossing your arms.

« i know, but i’m scared. y-you’re so nice and she was too- you know, you know what she was doing to me while she was b-being nice. » she says one word after the other furiously, her voice shaky and unstable, cracking, and she says everything so slowly because sobs would interrupt every word in her sentence, obstacles full of emotions.

you notice tears going down her cheeks, and it makes you wonder when she started crying. you move your hands slightly, nervously, trying to not listen to the urge you have: cup her cheeks, wipe her tears. you just couldn’t, you feel like it would be too much.

« but i don’t want anyone else to hurt you » tara barely nods, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt again, her head tilted. « that’s exactly what amber used to tell me. »

you sigh, having no idea of what to do now, what to say. the young girl saves you, just by declaring something else. « besides…if you don’t kill, y-you’ll get killed. being close to me is a death sentence, really. »

« don’t say that. » you murmur, shaking your head, a shiver of pity runs through you like thunder. you hate seeing her that way. her voice is still there, but unstable. « the next one could kill you. i don’t want you to d-die. » she almost screams, holding up a hand to her neck, like she was choking on her tears. she cries, and she isn’t even able to interrupt her grief, her pointless grief that looks at the future with a negative eye. « who said there’s going to be a next one? » you ask, almost rhetorically, like it was sure the murders ended in woodsboro, and that would dare hunting down tara and sam another time.

not in my story, you think. not when there’s me. you would protect her, no matter what, and at the first suspicious murder happening close to her, you already know you would make whoever wanted to get in the way disappear, in one way or another. but you didn’t know the gravity of the situation, you never were a victim of the attacks, you have no idea how smart a ghostface killer has to be.

tara remains silent again, her silence, every time she would use it, was as bothering as a loud, earth-breaking storm.

she just sobs, and trembles, and you can’t hold back anymore. you wrap your arms around her, pulling her in a hug that you both needed, so much, and you get it, you do, because she wraps her arms around you like her life depends on it.

« it’s okay. » your lullaby of consolation makes her nod, breathing deeply between her sniffs. she tightens her grip, and you only desire to feel all of her attached to you, every limb touching yours. you feel content at the affection, but you want more, her lips looked perfect, smooth, and soft. you wondered how they would taste.

but you couldn’t fuck around and find out, not now. « i know you’re scared, but i’ll be here, okay? we’ll be fine, no matter what. just…please. please don’t run away from me again…i…i missed you, so much. » you whisper, your voice is a restless plead, and you almost break down between her arms.

« i missed you too. » « but…i’m confused, » you finally confess. she looks at you, waiting patiently for you to add context, something that can help her understand what struggle you had. you notice how she calmed down, how she doesn’t sob anymore, how very few tears would fall, compared to how much she was crying before. she looks clueless, and it made your sentence stop for a little more time than how much you programmed. is it just you who wants more?

« the days we spent together…what do they mean to you? » and the question takes a few moments to be answered, as her grip tightens around you, her eyes gazing at you rather than the emptiness of the place. strangely, no one is there, you two can hear the music of the partying flat even out of it, and it relaxes you more because you aren’t alone, you can say you need to go if you want to, if it gets too much even for you.

you wait still, and she sighs. « they’re special, obviously. » « but tara, there’s more. » you notice that as you speak and breath, cold whiteish air goes out of your mouth, losing itself in the space in front of you. is it really that cold?

« i don’t know what you mean. » she shakes her head, and you take a step back. her cheeks are flushed, her body is stiff and as she doesn’t have anything else to grab, her hands clasp roughly.

you falter, shaking your head softly. « it’s nothing. maybe i should head out, y’know, maybe mindy is still waiting f— » « no, wait. » her hands open, she shows her palms, and huffs. « i want to understand. how come there’s more? i don’t even know what that means. »

« you get incredibly close for weeks, you kiss my face, you hug me and struggle to let go, you treat me with…weird sweetness that i have never seen before, especially from you. you suddenly disappear because you’re scared that i’ll end up copying amber, then…you say that those moments are just special. that’s a meaningless reply to me— do you even care? » you vent, a hint of anger mixed with palpable confusion, and the words go out of your mouth faster than you wanted them to.

she widens slightly her eyes, raising her eyebrows. and you know she still isn’t understanding from what place you’re coming from, or maybe she understands? how confusing she is.

« what kind of question is that? i care »

you decide to go all in, your patience wearing thin, as thin as a blade of grass. « then why do you act like you’re in love with me? » you giggle nervously, maybe looking crazy in front of her eyes, maybe looking desperate. she locks eyes with you, and you go ahead and take steps towards the building, fearing her reply, fearing that everything you know is false.

« because i am, y/n » you hear her say from behind, and you turn around, frowning. you are suspecting that what you heard isn’t actually what she is trying to say, and somehow, even if you didn’t say anything, she gets it. « i said i am. »

« how did you— » « you always make that face when you’re lost. » she laughs, getting closer, and that phrase makes you hint a smile. she cups your face with her cold hands, and it makes you shiver, but somehow it feels emotionally warm. a blanket over your heart.

« so what do you think? » she whispers those words, her voice cracking with fear. you feel your cheeks gradually getting hotter and hotter, redder and redder. « i think that…i’m in love with you, too. »

you stop, and her gaze softens. yours does too. « i love you, tara. a lot. i thought you were disgusted by me or…you didn’t want me around anymore. but god, i’m so in love. » you calmly declare, her fingers brush against your cheeks softly, with tenderness.

« i could never be disgusted or change my mind about you, you’re pretty dumb. »

giggles echo in the air, and she leans in, her breaths quiver at the intimate closeness you both have now. everything fades out, and you both look at each other in need, in need for the physical contact you both are craving. she scans your face as your breaths intertwine, and then her lips found yours, after months of research.

it’s perfect, you kiss back without even thinking about it, like you were born for this: to kiss her, to have her with you. you cup one of her cheeks with your shaky palm, the touch is soft and warm, and her lips are too. no anger is held in the kiss, only the affection you both feel, gentle in its essence. your heart stumbles in its rhythm, and you fear that she can hear it beating erratically too.

she breaks the kiss hesitantly, and you don’t know how long the kiss lasted — seconds? minutes? — but it just made you even more infatuated with her. her forehead rests against yours, her brownish hues shining with satisfaction, her lips curled up in a soft smile. you can still feel those lips against yours, or maybe you simply want them to be there again.

but you’re fine, you finally are. there are things you both need to work on, but you know that, until you’ll have her, you’ll be content and wanting to be better.

« i promise i will take care of you. » you whisper, you can’t help but smile, showing your teeth.

« i will take care of you, too. »

[mephistopheleswasrobbed]

GMMTV 2025 Riding the Wave first thoughts

We have 15 or 16 BLs, 2 GLs, one mixed het and BL and 1!!! het series. GMMTV really said we don't give a shit about straight people anymore and I'm so here for it.

Dare You to Death: Messy teen slasher meets murder mystery BL. Feels a little bit like two stories mushed together in the pilot trailer but very interesting concept. I'm quite neutral about JoongDunk but the story looks fun. Will almost certainly be watching.

Head 2 Head: Bad Buddy with fashion design students who are also car racers and one of them has visions of the future? There's a lot happening but tbh none of it really caught my attention. Haven't seen SkyKeen before and JavaSurf are new so I have zero opinions on them. I'll wait for the official trailer to make a decision about this one.

Burnout Syndrome: Love triangle kinda but make it serious. Directed by Nuchy, looks a bit darker and mature. OffGun + Dew as second lead looks intriguing especially because there seemed to be more romance shown between Dew and Gun than Off and Gun. This will probably be good. Not necessarily hyped but will definitely watch.

I Love "A Lot Of" You: The only exclusive BG show in this lineup about a guy trying to make all 5 personalities of a girl fall in love with him. Nanon and Mind of 4Eve. Looks very good actually. But it's a straight romance and so far I haven't seen anything that would make me watch anyway. Will probably not watch.

Whale Store xoxo: Down on her luck grocery store owner meets manic pixie dream girl errand girl. Happy for MilkLove to have graduated from school, MewnichJune with history looks promising. Not necessarily hyped but will definitely watch.

Only Friends: Dream On: Season 2 of Only Friends, this time centered around a theatre production. EarthMix as exes, JossGawin and OhmLeng. This is all I ever wanted. I'm so here for this. I would watch anything with EarthMix without hesitation but this has me extremely hyped. Will definitely watch.

That Summer: Troublemaker meets amnesiac prince in seaside setting. Neutral about WinnySatang, looking forward to NeoMint, hyped about MondRyu. Looks good but doesn't really catch me. Will probably be watching for Mond in a BL role finally.

My Romance Scammer: Two rich boys marrying scammers. They are making full use of marriage equality already. JuniorMark look good, Gmmtv went for OhmFluke and it's hilarious, they also look good. Looks like fun. Will almost certainly be watching.

Melody of Secrets: Mystery with murders and unreliable memories. Gives Hannibal vibes a little. (Which doesn't really work in its favour because Hannibal is on another level) Not a ForceBook fan but the plot seems interesting. Will wait for official trailer but probably watch for the fandom speculation.

Love You Teacher: Elementary school teacher who hates kids has to care for his amnesiac, age-regressed partner. Directed by Dome. Looks very fun. PearthSanta look good. They're gonna have to walk a fine line here with the whole age regression thing but I trust in Dome. Will be watching.

MU-TE-LUV: 7 Stories centered around Thai supersticious activity. Too many people in this for me to list. Will wait to see how much the stories are intertwined or if they're all separate from each other. Looks like fun. Definitely seated for the Fluke, Lego, Yacht, Neo story, the two BL stories didn't really catch my attention, some of the straight ones seemed more interesting. Will wait for official trailer for anything except the FLYN part which I'm super excited for.

Cat for Cash: Debt collector can understand cats, helps new owner to manage cat cafe. Family drama happens. I like FirstKhao but tbh the trailer bored me a little. (Pls don't kill me FK stans). Will wait for official trailer, might binge after it's done.

Girl Rules: Jojo directing basically Only Friends lesbian edition. Although mostly MilkLove and NamtanFilm seem to be mixed up, ViewMim seem to be doing their own thing. Gmmtv turning up the heat on the GL side. This looks very fun, I'm here for it. Will watch.

Boys in Love: Three high school couples and some gay teachers to round it out. Don't know any of these kids and tbh didn't even realise until the end that there were three couples. Looks like a nice high school BL, but I'm probably too old for this. Will probably watch for Podd and Papang.

My Magic Prophecy: Doctor x fortune teller with some mystery and escaping to the country side. JimmySea romance storyline didn't really catch me but the mystery plot seems interesting. 2 seconds of TeeFranc look intriguing. Will wait for official trailer but will probably watch for the mystery.

A Dog and a Plane: Scruffy first responder x prim flight attendant who's getting cheated on by his pilot boyfriend. This looks extremely fun. TayNew and MarcPoom has me seated. Jojo directing again. Second most hyped show for me. Will definitely watch.

Me and Thee: Teaching an out of touch mafia boss how to court someone. Looks like a lot of fun. PondPhuwin seem to alternate between uni and mafia, good for them. Directed by X. Will almost definitely be watching.

Wu: Probably BL but could also be bromance, the Pilot wasn't definitive but from the discussion afterwards I'm leaning towards BL. Either way, down on his luck athlete fated to protect supernatural fortune teller kinda guy. This story seems to be in its early developement stage still but SkyNani/NaniSky has my full attention and what we've seen of the concept so far looks very promising. Looking forward to this. Will be watching.

Memoir of Rati: Period BL, translator of French diplomats falls in love with some sort of nobleman. IFYLITA vibes. GreatInn are a perfect fit for a period BL. AouBoom look promising as well. Personally not a big period drama enjoyer but this looks very good. Will almost definitely be watching.

Ticket to Heaven: Return of Aof, based on real events, slight period + heavy christianity. Aof is angling for his next award with this one. Looks very good, more queer cinema than BL. Not the biggest fan of GeminiFourth but they're talented and this will be really good probably. Have to watch it for my ultimate bias Aof, anyway. Will be watching.

Overall thoughts: 16 out of 20 BL is crazy, so much for the fear that Gmmtv will switch to focus on bromance. Would have liked some more GL but what we're getting looks good. In general this lineup has me very excited. There's not a single pilot that made me instantly say "Nope" this time. Even the one single straight show which I'll probably skip, looks very good. We're getting a good variety of genres and moods as well. Also not a single remake afaict.

The new BL trend for 2025 seems to be superstition and mystery. I'm very happy with that.

All shows in order of my hypedness:

Extremely hyped:

Only Friends: Dream On

A Dog and a Plane

Excited:

Girl Rules

Wu

Me and Thee

Love You Teacher

Not really excited but looking forward to because it will most likely be good:

Burnout Syndrome

Ticket to Heaven

Memoir of Roti

This will be fun:

Dare You to Death

MU-TE-LUV (this is an average, only FLYN would be a lot higher, the rest without them would be lower)

My Romance Scammer

Whale Store xoxo

That Summer

Looks interesting enough:

Boys in Love

Melody of Secrets

My Magic Prophecy

Cat for Cash

Head 2 Head

I'm happy for the het show enjoyers because this looks really good but I don't really care:

I Love "A Lot Of" You

[flowery-laser-blasts]

What are , your Head Cannon , for Drakken and Shego and , Kim and Ron :

Got lots of headcanons so I give 3 random ones for each: Ron - In Pre-K, Ron received a very colorful and glittery friendship bracelt from Kim. He wore it all the time but eventually got bullied for it by other kids. One day Kim noticed that he didn't wear it and thought it was because of the bullies, she decided to not mention it. The real reason why Ron didn't wear it is because the braceltclip broke off, causing the beads to fall everywhere. He spent an entire afternoon trying to find back all of the beads and repair the bracelet, but with his parents being to busy, he placed the beads in a little bag and kept it in his treasurebox underneath his bed, where it still remains till this day. - Ron is smart but it highly depends on what the context is. If you ask him to solve an equation, he'll be having a hard time. But the moment you ask him the same equation but make it sound like it has to do with "figuring out how many coupons I need for Bueno Nacho" or so... he'll solve it within moments. - Ron takes care of his nails and hands, especially since he's into cooking. He doesn't want anything underneath his nails nor does he want food to stick to him while preparing stuff. Hygene is no 1 priority when it comes to preparing food; eating food, however, is a whole different story. Kim - After the Zombie Mayhem tournament, Kim secretely continues to play the video game. She doesn't want to admit it but it was more fun than she expected it to be. She secretely trains in order to surprise Ron with a match someday. - Kim and Ron decided to dress up as Miriam and Jonathan for Halloween Trick or Treating and later on Kim reused the costume for her presentation on Miriam in college. - Kim has become less worried about brands over the years, especially after realising how dumb it was after people wore her mission outfit for a few days, only to jump onto the next best thing. She still is into looking into the latest fashion but thrifts it and tries to make it her own. Together with Monique they started upcycling clothes. Monique has her own business now. Drakken - After Graduation part 2. Drakken started working on improving the quality of the world rather than trying to take it over: Being praised for being a beloved saviour has better gloating perks than being a failing villain that has to hop from lair to lair. Though he does miss the thrill of villainy every now and then. So he sometimes does petty crimes like shoplifting a screwdriver from Planettool or anonymously blaming a fellow scientist for causing a chemical fire that resulted in a three months shutdown..., ...some tax evasion. - Drakken's scar was a result of eyebrow trimming - Drakken has a distaste for okra and bellpeppers and will pick those out of a dish no matter who prepared it. Shego - After Graduation part 2. Shego got tasked to train some of Global Justice's newest agents. She enjoyed it and eventually became an independent hitwoman for a while. After that she just decided retiring early is nice (especially with the money Drakken was making for both of them with his new job). She now does whatever... pretty much what she's always been doing. But also meets up with Kim and rekindled their sisterly bond in stop team go. - Shego is a horrible cook and either relies on someone else cooking for her or having take out/going to a restaurant. However after retiring early, she decided to try and get into cooking... a bit... the kitchen burned down. - Shego hates to admit it but the Snowman Hank song became an earworm. She hummed it once and noticed Drakken smiling widely from the corner of her eye.. or was that just her imagination? She doesn't dare to ask...

Hope it all makes sense. Still recovering from a cold so my typing isn't the most coherend at the moment :')

EDIT: I WISH TUMBLR WOULD STOP SCREWING UP THE COLORS IN THIS POST

[fantasiac]

Sonic X Silver Unleashed would be really cool

especially for 2026, which seems like it might be year of Silver, as Sonic 4 has rumored to have Silver in it, sega would probably want to do the Sonic X Shadow generations success again, as well as finally establishing Silvers origin and finally Sonic Unleashed for modern consoles, and a pc port that people have been BEGGING for

Giving silver the chance to fix his origin would be a great chance to take if they decide that his Rivals story isn't canon (because of the way it breaks Eggman Nega), or just isn't well known enough by fans, finally setting why everyone knows him would be cool

although, he wouldnt actually meet sonic in this game, but maybe he could interact with characters that aren't in the original story, adding more to it, and maybe could have sonic and silver meet in an epilogue short like Dark beginnings

it would also probably just fit really well, with silver coming back in time to fix the ruined planet, not that I want another "silver comes back to the past to fix the future" plot, but it could work, especially if they decide to rewrite him, and because it would take place during unleashed, it could definitely work as a good introduction for his character to the world, as it's the next main game after 06 (besides secret rings) so it could probably be much more of a "this is what happened instead of 06 because the timeline reset", if they decide to lean into that (it would live up to the stuff 06 was claiming to be, a cool new direction/reboot to the Sonic world, setting Unleashed as what happened instead of 06 would not only make that statement correct, but also reintroduce silver around that time period in the series)

they could also put shadow in it, because all the fans new and old would want more of him in games, especially in "the best game in the franchise", also seeing shadow post shadow 05 would be cool, Ian Flynn could work in the Super Hard Mode being canon, where he joins GUN at the end, bringing "Shadow's best characterisation" not only into main canon finally, but also into the best game in the franchise

it would print millions for sega

and Silver's powers could get reworked for the boost engine, which would be interesting, and his powers could react with the dark Gaia energy somehow, changing the playstyle to match up with base unleashed

and I somehow didn't mention that I DESPERATELY want more of that peak unleashed world building, with the distinct cultures in the world, it would blend into silvers story really well, as he's not used to all the people and life, finally capturing that "woah, this time period is beautiful" element that wasn't there very much in 06, despite it helping his motivation to save his world so much

and because unleashed is already one of everyone's favorites, bringing it to the forefront of the Sonic franchise for new players to enjoy would probably put sonic back on top as a gaming icon

also a mixing up more of the anthros from Forces into the humans of unleashed, would not only be cohesive, but add to sonics world, Sonic, Tails, and Amy wouldn't be the only animal characters seen in the game where you see the entire planet, making sonic seem special among them and explaining why nobody really questions sonic's existence

unleashed is one of the only games that really builds up a full world for sonic, and all the other games subsequently forgot about it all instantly, I desperately want to know where Station square is on the map, or White Acropolis, or Westopolis, or Seaside Hill, or Sunset Heights, I want all the stages from the games on one big map.

Frontiers also confirms that unleashed is part of the canon, so it would set standards for the next games to add on to it, because the stages in unleashed are considered the best In the whole franchise, in music, stage design AND worldbuilding. we need it to be a base for the rest of the franchise to follow at least a little bit when making new stages, a remake would not only fix that, but also give the silver game that people have been begging for for 18 years, and finally give him a base intro to the story for the wide audience to fall in love with, because silver is rad as hell

also a game that takes place before whatever forces does would be cool, because after unleashed, the games barely even touch on the world of Sonic anymore, Colors? in space, Generations? timeless void, Lost World? Lost Hex, only really touching on it in Forces, where Eggman completely shapes the globe in his image, but they don't even really show what he changed besides "sand hill", and then Frontiers is on a separated island that we don't know where it is on the planet, if unleashed was remade, it would bring back the worldbuiilfing it had, and open up the doors to have games that add on to the main timeline come out while sticking to that worldbuilding without it seeming off because unleashed is a recent and well talked about game by this point

it could work so well sega, pleeeaasse

I just love unleashed so much, and I'm not the only one

[meetinginsamarra]

Fanfics I Really Liked in September 2024

So. Since I keep a list of what I´ve read anyway (there´s always a list), I will rec all the fics I´ve wholly enjoyed on a monthly basis. Old and new, canon or AU, big or small authors, long or short but nearly always Johnlock (-ish).

Clean Start by standbygo @blogstandbygo

UniLock - John meets an odd man at the laundrette who deduces people from what's in the dryer.

Delightful different first meeting.

These Hours That Define Us  by predictably_unpredictable

Sherlock has just been discharged from hospital, not knowing what to expect or what he'll be coming home to. He's convinced himself that he should never see John again for John's well being, believing himself to be a hindrance to him. But when John shows up unexpectedly to 221B in the middle of the day hoping for a place to stay, things take a different turn, forcing them both to confront their past and their future.

Awesome S3 fix-it!

The night visitor by Snoozydog

John Watson, former army surgeon, employed by the secretive and indefinable government official Mycroft Holmes, accidentally saves the life of his employer's younger brother and ends up being hired as his private physician. John is immediately fascinated by his new patient but not only is Sherlock engaged to be married to someone else, but he is also a man surrounded by many dark secrets. Under the looming threat of Mycroft’s watchful eyes, as well as Sherlock’s imminent wedding there is also something else that lurks in the shadows, something that threats the budding relationship that has started to develop between the doctor and his enigmatic patient.

^^ Says it all, go read!

The winding road of secrets and lies by Snoozydog

John Watson takes on a mission to infiltrate the household of Mycroft Holmes by order of his new employer, Sebastian Moran, to access information their boss is wishing to get his hands on. To be able to get to Mycroft John will have to befriend his younger brother Sherlock and try to establish a bond with him. But what starts out as a seemingly simple job proves to be much more complicated for John as the Holmes household harbours many dark and unexpected secrets, especially about the very complicated relationship between the two brothers. Under pressure from his boss to follow through with his assignment, Mycroft suspiciously watching his every move and, to complicate matters even more, John beginning to develop feelings for Sherlock, he is beginning to regret ever taking this job. Can he complete his initial plan to steal information from Mycroft and what will happen when Sherlock finds out the truth?

^^ Says it all, go read!

The Printer Is Jammed by startrekto221b (snowandfire)

John is a disgruntled customer who just wants his money back for a shoddy printer Harry ordered for him off of a catalogue. Sherlock is a bored customer service rep working the summer he has off from Oxford. They are both about to get more than they bargained for.

Fandom classic AU different first meeting. Grumpy John and snarky Sherlock and hilarious shenanigans aróund the printer. Lots of fun.

The Printer Is Still Jammed by startrekto221b (snowandfire)

Life after happily ever after still has its pitfalls. Glimpses into the lives of Sherlock and John after they said ‘I do’.

Part 2 of the printer fun.

[evenyvn]

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐄. — detective!alhaitham x troublemaker male!reader

chapter 03 ; tête-à-tête

cw : lowercase intended, alhaitham is kind of rude but what's new?

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[original work]

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　　　　a few days have passed since the awkward meeting and conversation between the genius detective and (m/n). alhaitham's cold attitude did not seem to discourage (m/n), the street fighter was even more attracted to the detective even though the man had clearly and firmly stated that he did not want any further conversation.

the local thug increasingly appeared at the police station even though he had no cases at all. initially, the police officers had repeatedly trying to kick out the (h/c) haired man, but (m/n) would come again the next day without exception.

the officees finally give up after trying to kick out the troublemaker of a man for tge nth time and just let him do whatever he wanted as long as he didn't cause any commotion.

(m/n) also seemed to follow alhaitham more often wherever he went, like a chick following its mother. at first, the genius detective ignored him and only focused on continuing his work, reading important documents and avoiding talking to (m/n).

as if alhaitham had the ability to create a giant wall between him and (m/n), maybe because that was alhaitham's natural trait but for some reason, (m/n) felt that there was more to it, he felt that alhaitham was hiding another side behind his cold attitude.

until one day, right at lunch break, (m/n) got the chance to talk to alhaitham without any work getting in the way. (m/n) caught the gray hatred detective walking into a coffee shop located quite close to the police station.

(m/n) followed alhaitham, he sat at a table not too far away from the gray haired man. his (e/c) eyes watched alhaitham who was ordering a cup of coffee in a very controlled and carefully planned manner. 'black coffee, no sugar'—how typical of him, (m/n) thought with a small smile spreading across his face.

a few moments after ordering, alhaitham finally walked to a seat right in the corner of the coffee shop, away from the crowd. (m/n) decided to take the move and walked towards the detective's table with a little anxiety in his heart.

"may i sit with you? mr. detective?"

alhaitham, who seemed lost in his own thought, turned to the source of the voice, with a not too happy expression on his face—green eyes stared sharply at the figure standing in front of him. "i prefer to sit alone," he answered softly but firmly and in control.

(m/n) chuckled, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere. "oh come on, i know you're actually lonely, right?" with his casual way of speaking, he tried to convince alhaitham, "i just want to chat for a while, i won't bother you."

alhaitham continued to stare at the local thug, for a moment—a hint of suspicion crossed his green eyes—but he quickly looked away and returned to his cup of tea and some pastries on the table, "i'm not interested in talking," again, alhaitham replied in a monotone but firm tone.

unfortunately for alhaitham—(m/n) didn't give up so easily. he took off his leather jacket and pulled a chair then sat in front of alhaitham, still maintaining a smile on his face. "you must have your own reasons why you are so cold," he said in a more serious tone. "but i'm sure, behind your cold attitude, there are many things that you don't show."

"actually, there's nothing to show," replied the detective slowly, this time in a lower tone. "i just don't like dealing with people with no important matters, especially those who like to make trouble."

a smile spread across (m/n)'s lips, "i understand that i do like to cause trouble, it's like i'm a trouble magnet, but i'd like to think i'm more than that, just like i think how you're more than what you show right now."

the detective stared back at (m/n) sharply, but the expression on his face changed slightly. as if he was starting to get interested because of what the (h/c)- haired man had just said.

"then, what do you really want?" (m/n) shrugged, "i just want to get to know you better, do i have to get a reason for that?" alhaitham was silent, as if considering what (m/n) had just said.

to be honest, the detective was quite surprised by the local thug's words, it wasn't every day that he spoke to someone as honest and absurd (in a good way) as (m/n).

as a detective, reading and judging other people to know theit intention is like reading a children's story book to alhaitham, but (m/n)—such an eccentric and wild figure that makes it a little difficult for alhaitham to read the man's true desires.

the gray-haired detective just sighed as he sipped his cup of black coffee, that was the first time alhaitham really felt a little shaky. he didn't want to admit it but (m/n) really catch his interest now—more than he imagined.

the rising tension between the two of them was not just a matter of conversation, but rather an inner battle that had secretly begun.

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[sadrainfestival]

Saw many people being understandably confused as to why, in the alternate universe Ekko end up in, Piltover suddenly seems to give enough of a fuck about Zaunites to stop both the use of hextech and the oppression on Zaun "just" because of the death of a zaunite teen, so I thought I'll give my two cents on this

Personally I do think this makes sense, and I got three reasons or so for it. The first one might be a bit wacky, the second is a theory, but the third really explains it perfectly, trust

1) The circumstances of the incident

I think that the idea of Pilties being absolutely unmoved by a tragic accident just because it happened to a zaunite is a bit of an overestimation of the prejudice Piltover holds upon Zaun. Topside is a classist society that maintain control and oppression upon Zaun, notably through police brutality, but it is not a fascist one ; to explain shortly, zaunites are not considered as lesser because of beliefs that considers immorality or wickedness to be a part of their very being in an essentialist manner. Accordingly so, it seems unlikely that an accident harming children, who depending of the situation tend to escape harsher aspects of oppression, would be overlooked by Piltover just because of said children being zaunites.

An argument I saw a few times was that Enforcers already kill zaunites children, so they wouldn't care about Vi dying. To which I would say.... we never see Enforcers killing children ?? If I remember correctly (if not, feel free to correct me), we never do, and if I entirely agree that Zaunites minors experience mistreatments from Enforcers, I think the state of the oppression against Zaun lacks a few steps of deshumanization to just allow Enforcers to kill Zaunites children on the daily and get away with it. Secondly, death due to police brutality and death due to an accident are two differents things that would get received by the population very differently (I could go on about police brutality but I don't want the post to be long as fuck)

Lastly, few people pointed out that Marcus, the first enforcer to witness the scene, wouldn't have empathy for Vi, which is something I personally disagree with. Marcus, that we meet as the new sheriff after Grayson's death, was already a morally grey (dark grey in my opinion, but still, grey), but who we see here is young enforcer Marcus, not corrupted (probably) and not under Silco's influence, who at the time just became or is about to became a father ; to think that the death of a young girl, and/or the helplessness of a very young Powder, could have tugged at his heartstrings makes sense.

2) The possibility of Caitlyn's death

This mention on the Arcane wiki (and the mention of Caitlyn's death in the alternate universe being presumed on her wiki page) seems to indicate that Caitlyn might have also died in the explosion (the alternate universe being "the one where they both end up dying"), something that isn't confirmed in the show but seems very plausible. This theory especially explains the end of Hextech, as Jayce is a protegé of the Kirammans ; needless to say they would cut any funding of Hextech immediatly if it killed their daughter, and the technology would get enough of a bad reputation that it would not be funded by anyone else. Furthermore, the death of both a Piltie teen and a Zaunite teen as a sort of both-sides tragedy could have sparkled the desire for both cities' leaders to put all disagreements aside and "sort their shit out".

3) Literally Heirmerdinger

Some people seem to have forgotten that Heirmerdinger (of the principal universe) has been living in the alternate universe for a looooong ass time before Ekko (of the principal universe) wakes up in it ; I don't remember how much years he spent there, but what I'm sure of is that he was there when the incident happened, and also probably a respected council member at this time as he was in the principal universe. With the knowlegde of what was going to happen (as well as his original wariness of magic), and likely being more aware of and involved in ending the oppression against Zaunites because of the time he spent with Ekko and the Firelights, him using the incident to illustrate the danger of Hextech and framing Vi's death as a needed wake-up call about the lengths to which Zaunites can be driven due to their poor living conditions, and therefore the need to put an end to the oppression, is for me the most likely explaination as to why things are the way they are in the alternate universe.

So this is my take on the matter. I've written up those plausible explanation the day after watching Act III bc I was also wondering how Vi's death played such a big part in the direction the alternate universe has taken, so I hope it helped anyone who might still be confused about it !

Fun fact for the end : did you see that, in this alternate universe, Vander has a tattoo of his daughter's "VI" tattoo on his hand ? (This was not a fun fact I have tricked you into learning a fact that personally devastated me :D)

[bcolfanfic]

universal sound au•gender-integrated 100bg

house fire

authors note: hi! writing this kind of au is new for me so i hope its alright. massive s/o to ww2 rpf is fine discord server for being so lovely and encouraging <3 bare bones run down: halona is a ball turret gunner, elowyn is a pilot + lesbian who was involved with tatty back on base and has been projecting missing her onto halona :p and cj was a navigator.

cj is *not* dead, while all this is going on she's a train evading via the comet line. which of course crank nor anyone else has a way of knowing.

---

Crank took a breath in before he knocked on the library door, the quiet murmur of conversation coming through from the other side.

When a few seconds went by without any movement he opened the door himself. Brady was seated in the far corner, his back slightly hunched over a stack of papers that sprawled across the table. Halona was pressed shoulder to shoulder next to him, leaning into his space to tell him something he couldn't quite hear- but whatever it was made Brady laugh under his breath. He tilted his head to look at her, eyes soft.

Better Clark sent me than Elowyn, Crank thought to no one.

Brady reached toward Halona’s hair, his fingers ghosting near her face before Crank cleared his throat, loud and pointed. Both of them jolted like they’d been burned.

Turning his head towards him, Brady sucked in his bottom lip.

"Hm?"

"Colonel Clark wants to run us through some escape stuff,"

Halona gathered her things and stood with a soft, Thanks Crank as she brushed past without meeting his eyes. But Brady didn’t move. He just stared at the table in front of him, shoulders tight.

It chipped at his patience.

"Come on, lover boy," Crank muttered, turning back and giving the door frame a pat. "we’ve got more important things to do."

"You're acting like El." Brady finally said as he pushed in his chair and stood, budging past Crank- shoulder pushing against his side hard enough that he had feeling it was intentional.

Crank paused for a beat before he followed him, boots brushing against the dust collecting on the floor. "And how am I doin' that?" He called out after him, edge of his voice biting at Brady's heels.

He could sense him rolling his eyes without seeing his face, tone annoyed. "By acting like the sky's gonna fall if I look at Hallie one way or another."

Crank inhaled, flexing his fingers at his side, knuckles aching to be popped. It was more complicated than that- for Elowyn of all people especially. But the root of the way her eyes narrowed at the two of them made enough sense to him. Johnny had never been good at compartmentalizing. And distractions were a liability, now more than ever.

Halona was a good girl; he'd seen enough of her around CJ to know that. He had more faith in her to not get distracted than he did Brady.

It was only the secondary reason that he felt like he could understand the way Elowyn's face twisted every time Brady's hand lingered on her friend's back- and every time he designated himself the one to swipe at the grime that managed to collect itself on the edges of the band-aid patched over her eye.

It made him miss having someone- miss CJ- so much it made his chest ache.

"There’s a whole lot to do around here without you trippin’ over yourself about her. We’ve got more important things to worry about." He said with a gesture at nothing. "El's right about that much."

"El’s just pissy ‘cause she’s jealous." Brady cut in, words sounding somewhat practiced as his tone dropped. "Halona knows it, and so does everyone else with a brain in their skull."

"Doesn’t mean she’s wrong," Crank mumbled, jaw feeling tight as he pushed open the door to the bunk room. Brady was so close behind him he could feel his breath on his neck.

"Yeah and you'd be singing a real different tune if CJ was here." He said, loud as he pushed past him into the room.

Crank froze where he stood in the doorway, suddenly feeling lightheaded. The girls had known from the beginning, and he had a hunch Croz did too if for no other reason than navigator proximity.

But not anyone else, Brady least of all. When he blinked and found his bearings, there was a proud grin tugging at Johnny's mouth.

"The hell 's that supposed to mean?"

Brady didn't miss a beat, stepping back towards him. "You know what it means, you were screwing her." he said, edging on shouting. "And you," He continued, jabbing his finger almost right into his face "wouldn't be acting like we all oughta' take celibacy vows in here if she showed up tomorrow."

Crank’s face burned, and he could sense everyone's eyes on him even when he didn't find he had the gall to look back. Settling for the safest bet he looked away from Brady at where Elowyn was sitting on the edge of her bunk, gaze flicking between the two of them, impassive. Halona had sat herself down at by her feet, looking up at her with one side of her cheek sucked in. Elowyn leaned down to say something in her ear.

Brady scoffed, expectant, and Crank felt like his strings had been cut.

"You know what- go fuck yourself," he spat as he stepped to him, enough that Brady dropped his finger away. "Or go screw Hallie, don't need my bles-"

Before he could even finish the sentence, Brady lunged, his fist meeting Crank's jaw with a crack.

All the air was sucked out of the room at once and Crank staggered back, blood rushing to his mouth. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, tasting copper as he stumbled to keep his footing. Who he was pretty sure was Bucky came over to haul him up by one arm, barking something at Brady that felt like white noise to his ears.

When he looked at Elowyn again her face had hardened, and it looked like she might say something, but the words never came.

"You think you got everything out of your system there boys?" Colonel Clark said as he walked out from where he'd been in the corner of the room, brows furrowed with his arms crossed over his chest. He clapped a hand on Brady's shoulder and motioned for him to go stand where he'd just come from- as far away from Crank as he was going to get in the small space.

Hearing Elowyn's voice, low and urgent pulled his attention back to her and when he looked over, she had shimmied out of her bunk to sit next to Halona on the floor. Halona looked back at him when he figured that she could sense his staring, lips pressed in a thin line- wet glint in her eye that wasn't bandaged.

Crank swallowed, guilt settling his gut like a stone. If CJ was here, he thought, she would've killed him for making Hallie cry. She'd about knocked a RAF prick on his ass over much less.

Every move he made feeling forced, mechanical, he made himself sit in the empty chair next to Buck at the table, furling and unfurling his fingers around nothing.

"Just this place talking." Buck had taken up saying to all of them.

Crank found himself wishing this place would just shut it if it didn't have a damn thing useful to say, or an MIA navigator to spit out through the fence.

[the-haunted-office]

Thursday is all smiles when she opens the door to 222 to show the Lady the room she'll be staying in while she's at the Office. There is no reason for her to feel anything but elated about having a new guest to set up and look after. Regardless of where the people come from and what trouble they may be in, there is always a certain kind of excitement for Thursday whenever a new face shows up in the Office. It means not only getting to meet someone new, but getting to learn about new cultures, new worlds, new things in general. Everything about it is exciting... even if it's terrifying for the guest.

She pushes open the door and flips on the light switch, entering the room first and gesturing for the Lady to follow.

The room itself isn't anything impressive, and must be especially so to the Lady who is probably used to far more extravagant dwellings.

It's something akin to your average hotel room. Not terribly big and having been made over from a couple of office rooms melded together into one room, it consists of a queen sized bed, a writing desk, a couple of bookshelves with some books on them, a window with the curtains pulled closed, a closet, and a door leading into a bathroom with a toilet, a sink with a mirror, and a bathtub/shower.

Other than that, nothing about it stands out. The carpet is a deep blue and the walls have been painted a grayish color, so it stands apart from the rest of the Office to give it a more homey feel, but outside of that it's just your average room.

Thursday is nonetheless excited about it. "I hope you like your room, Lady Evergreen! They used to be offices, but we remodeled a lot of them over into rooms just like this one to make it more of like a- a- like a- sort of like a hotel, I guess? Because we get a lot of people through here like yourself, and plus we all needed places to sleep in ourselves. It made sense to convert the rooms, you know? It has your basics, but- you know, understandably we just met, so I don't know what all things you might require, so if there is anything, anything, you can think of that you might need or want, please let me know and we'll do our best to get it for you."

Speaking of which, Doom arrives with a little rolling cart laden with the tea that was promised, which she pushes through the doorway so long as the Lady isn't still standing there. "I heard someone ordered midnight refreshments, ehehehehe."

"Of course, of course," the Lady chimes in. She nods respectfully and follows Thursday a few paces behind. Her hand tucks proudly through the gap in her waistcoat as she half-listens the pleasantries of the hostess. It is a dignified enough pose. But in actuality, she is worming her way through her hidden pockets for any trace of substance. She sometimes carried a packet of painkilling herbs, as the doctor had recommended, or a small flask, in case she was miserable.

The Lady scrunches her nose in momentary ire. There is nothing on her person because she hadn't planned on going out today. What happened? She can barely remember what she had been doing before.

Evergreen's face draws up again quickly, as Thursday announces her decision, "Two-twenty-two? Are we there?" Her head bobs slightly out of what's left of her wilted collar and her body circles around towards the previous doors. "How many doors is that, is that...?"

The Lady stops short. She certainly isn't up to the task of explaining her full conditions to the hostess. She had been confident before that she could figure her whereabouts in other ways. But frankly, the amount of time passed to figure the numbers between 222 and 217 is getting rather embarrassing.

"Oh, I see, that much down this way, and adjacent to this painting here!" she frames the path between her fingers. "Thank you, Thursday, how kind of you."

[coolcoelacanth]

i think i can't move on because there is a part of me that is waiting for him to come back. there is a part me that is too scared to let go, because that would mean losing him forever. i don't want to think that we will never share anymore beautiful moments, or that i will never know what it feels like to lay in his arms again.